#and by talk i mean bash our heads against a wall together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

212-apricity · 1 year ago

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mastermind, part two

two updates in one day???? active era fr

anyways here’s parts two, omg i love theodore sm like i’m gonna cry

please lmk what your favourite parts were and comment literally whatever you like i love reading them sm🫶🏽🫶🏽

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

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“Alright, that’s enough! Shut it!” I yell from my position in front of the conversing Gryffindors.

At my shout they all shut their mouths.

Finally, thank God.

“Alright now listen to me,” I say to the Gryffindors as I pace the field with rain falling all over me, getting in my eyes and drenching my uniform and hair, “Just because you go lucky enough to be selected for the Quidditch team last year does not guarantee you a spot in for this year. Last year our team was absolutely abominable, we lost to Hufflepuff of all teams. Now that I’m Captain I’m not losing to any team especially not Slytherin. Play fair and play well. The official team will be posted on the common room notice board by Friday night. Have fun.”

And with that everyone takes off into the air and starts playing, some noticeably better than others.

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After playing for a whole round,and freshening up, the boys and I meet up with Hermione in the library to study.

“Hey, how were trials?” Hermione lifts her head out of a big dusty book and looks up to see us walking towards us, Ron looking like he was going to collapse any second and Harry with a rare skip in his step.

“They were surprisingly good, loads of potential. We’ll definitely get the house cup this year and our Ron here might just be our new keeper.” I say as I put my arm around Ron’s and he puts his head on my shoulder from exhaustion.

“Yeah ‘Mione, you should’ve seen me on the pitch today, I was absolutely unstoppable…Oh! And by the way,” Helifts his head from my shoulder and looks at me, “You know that Cormac McLaggen guy?”

“Yes…?” I respond, unsure of where this conversation will go.

“Do you think you’d want to go out with him?”

I’m caught off guard with hi s question and stutter my response, “W-what? I…I don’t know, I mean…maybe? I don’t know. What, why?”

“He asked me to hook you guys up on the pitch earlier and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t want to actually go out with him before I bash his head against a wall.”

Harry grabs a couple of books from different shelves and puts them down on our table.

I laugh before answering, “No Ron don’t worry about bashing his head, I don’t know him that well, maybe he’s a good guy, I might go out with him or I might not, we’ll see.”

Ron and Harry had always been like brothers to me. And Ron was especially always overprotective. We’d spent almost all of our childhood together his family and I, since I hated being in my h̶o̶m̶e̶ house so much, the Weasley’s had almost taken me in as one of their own and I never felt any more or less than them. I would stay at either their house or at Sirius’, making all of us that much closer.

“Hey Y/N?” Harry says slowly, looking at something behind me. “Why is Nott glaring at you?”

“What?” I say, confused, as I turn around to find the dark haired boy glaring at me, his quill half snapped in his strong hold. We hold eye contact for a second before he breaks away, turns to Blaise besides him, picks up his things and quickly strides out the library, his cologne lingering as he passes me.

“That’s strange.” Hermione recites my thoughts.

“Right? What’s his deal? Anyway,” Ron says before turning to Harry but my thoughts linger to that moment.

What’s going on?

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About a week later in potions, Theo won’t even look at me much rather talk.

“Hello? What’s your deal?” I whisper, waving my quill in front of his blue eyes trying to catch his attention.

He breaks away from his daze and (finally) meets my eyes.

“Hm? What? No I’m fine.” He says, resting his head on his fist and looking ahead at Slughorn explaining the reaction of something.

I furrow my brows.

“Upset with how well our team is doing? I bet you can already tell we’ll kick your Slytherin arses.” I smirk at him but he doesn’t seem to notice my remark and has that laid out look in his eyes again.

“Theo?” I say more gently and brush my hand against his arm lightly.

He immediately flinces away in…pain? Which only worries me further.

Did I do something wrong?

He blinks a few times before meeting my eyes with his blue ones and I can see a slight hint of pain in them as they get slightly glassy.

“Theo what’s wrong?” I say again in the same quiet gentle tone. Luckily we're at the back of the dark room and everyone else is too immersed in Slughorn’s lecture to notice us.

“I…” He starts off, “I’m not sure, I just- I don’t know.” He pauses for a moment before looking away, blinking his eyes and returning, “It’s nothing I’m…I’m fine don’t worry.” he flashes me a forced smile which only deepens my frown.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. And for the record, we’re gonna win this Friday.” he smirks at me, going back to his normal state.

“What? No way, have you even seen your team? And anyway with you as captain, we’re sure to win.”

“Excuse me? We’ve got the best of the best this year, that house cup is ours.”

"With my level of quidditch experience, I can probably-"

"Even with that level of whatever, you're still 5”2."

"HEY-"

“Ahem.” Slughorn inturrepts me as everyone in the class looks back and I cower back into my seat with Theo trying to surperess his laugh in his hand.

Well. At least I made him smile.

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“God I hope it doesn’t rain.” Harry says from besides me, looking up at the sky nervously in anticipation of the match in less than five minutes.

“Yeah me too.” I say equally as nervous.

“Alright alright alright! Welcome everyone to the first match of the season. We’ve got the two best teams, in my opinion, sorry ravens and puffs, Gryffindor verses Slytherin!” Lee Jordan calls out from his mic.

“Now we want a nice, clean game alright?” Lee continues with the speech he’s forced to read out at every match and I lock eyes with sparkling blue ones across the field which are already staring back at me.

I mouth “We’re gonna win” at him an he smirks at me before mouthing back, “You’ve got no chance, love.”

“...Alright and with that, let the match begin!”

We all take into the air, getting into our positions almost immediately.

After almost an hour the snitch hasn’t been caught yet by either Harry or Draco and we’re tied 7-7.

Cormac flies up to me when everyone is slow and visibly tired having played non stop at full effort for a while and are all waiting for one of the seekers to catch the snitch.

“Hey Y/N, what are you doing tomorrow?” he asks casually, as if we’re not in the middle of a quidditch match.

“Huh? Oh I don’t know.” I respond trying to flat away to hit the bludger, until I’m followed by Cormac once again.

“Well I was just wondering, you know if you don’t have any plans then maybe you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

“Yeah sure whatever Cormac.” I say trying to brush him off.

I need to focus on this game. I’ll deal with whatever this idiot’s blabbering on about later. Once we’ve won.

Cormac smiles and whispers a ‘yes!’ to himself and I look across to the goal post where I see Theo staring back at us with a look in his eyes.

It wasn’t anger but hurt?

I shot the bludger as hard as I could and scored another point at which time Harry had just caught the snitch. The crowd erupted into cheer and I should’ve been overjoyed like them but my mind was elsewhere.

What’s going on with him?

I land on the soft grass and am attacked by hugs from everyone around me.

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After freshening up I’m met by a drunk Hermione who tells me about a party in the Gryffindor common room celebrating our win.

“Ron’s planned it and of course he’s invited the whole Slytherin team as well and practically the whole school come to think of it. Anyways you know I’m not one for parties or anything like this but the boys have already given me enough polyjuice potion than my water weight so I kind of want to be there.” she suddenly erupts into a mess of giggles and I hold her up as we enter the Gryffindor common room.

It’s flooded with people but a few stand out to me. Harry and Ginny are on the sofa with Ron coming in between them a few of my friends are in small bunches here and there and Cormac is staring straight at me with a drink in his hand and a stupid smirk on his face.

Ew.

Hermione shouts over the music that she was going to get another drink and I scan the room for anyone available that I could talk to so I could avoid Cormac, and my eyes land on a figure reading a book and having a smoke in the corner of the room.

This should be fun.

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part two done! i’m literally making this thing up as i go but part three is already in construction👩🏽‍💻👩🏽‍💻

again please lmk your thoughts and i hope you enjoyed it!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

taglist: @cherry-hoe @timmytime17 @jetblackpayne @coolestgirlhere

#theodore nott x reader slow burn #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader fluff #theodore nott x reader angst #theodore nott x y/n slow burn #theodore nott x y/n angst #theodore nott x y/n fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #fics #fanfic

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noonaishere · 6 months ago

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Music of the Heart [J.YH] - sixty-six | principles

You walked into the building, coffee in hand and walked over to the elevators. For some reason, you had never really registered the list of principles Wonderland had emblazoned on the wall in the lobby, probably because you were much too dazzled with all the albums and awards to really register it. In reality, it was hard to miss, and you had read it had been there since the company’s inception; a reminder of what made Wonderland different from other companies, their ‘humanistic theory’ if you will.

Wonderland’s Principles:

Wonderland puts people first

Wonderland respects positive aspects of employees, and their freedom and dignity

Let kindness, genuineness, and compassion be how you interact with each other

You looked at it for a moment. You wondered if any other company was known for such a thing. Sure, some had organic food in the cafeteria, but that didn’t stop them from forcing their idols to starve themselves before comebacks. And sure, some said they valued their talent, but had cafés where fans could go in the hopes that an idol might show up for them to gawk at. Though Wonderland’s lobby had floor to ceiling glass, the shutters allowed light in but made it impossible for outsiders to see into. And they were so well known for pressing charges against sasaengs that there wasn’t a single one camped outside like there were with some other companies. You had even heard that they bought the building their idols’ dorms were in, so they could ensure they had high security, and spaces where they could hang out together away from prying eyes. You thought it was sad that a company had to go to such lengths to make sure their workers could have privacy, but you were glad they took the extra steps; it must be hard for idols and actors at other companies to give one hundred percent of their effort to their work when they also have to deal with such things, on top of the company stealing their wages without them knowing. Money was another thing Wonderland was also very transparent about, going as far as to have the yearly wages for each position at the company on their website for all to see. And with some companies being shady about payment to their own workers, it had caused ripples in the industry with more than one idol leaving their company for Wonderland once their contract was up. Where other companies might use shady means to poach talent from each other, Wonderland didn’t even have to, people just came to them.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Maddox walk past you to the elevators, he probably couldn’t see you because of his extremely dark shield-style sunglasses that covered almost half his face. It was cloudy out.

You joined him by the elevators.

“Hey Maddox.”

He turned. His lip curled for a moment; pain from the movement of turning too fast. “Oh, hey.”

“Hungover?” You smiled.

“Not as bad as I thought I’d be, I’m not sure why.”

“Maybe it was the water.”

He touched his cheek. “Maybe you’re right.”

You chuckled to yourself.

The elevator arrived, you both got in, and when you got to your floor he set off down the hall, not in the direction of the studio.

“Where are you going?”

“To say hi to everyone?”

“Huh?”

“I go around and say hi to everyone in their studios before I go into ours.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that.”

“Have you met the other producers yet?”

You shook your head. “Just you guys.”

“Come with me.”

Maddox knocked and opened the door of whoever was in. The two of you went around greeting everyone, some of them asking you about yourself. You got a little bashful as Maddox talked you up as the new ‘genius producer’ Hongjoong had decided to take under his wing, feeling like a five-year old who had to stand there while their parents told their friends about how well they were doing in school or at dance class or music lessons.

This wasn’t something you had ever experienced personally, with your mom being the way she was; you stood there while she talked you down to all of her friends, but you had seen other kids being talked up by their parents to their friends, so, you knew it was a thing that happened.

“I’ll send you the link. You should really check out her mashups, they’re incredible.” Maddox beamed as he patted you on the shoulder.

“Well, I hope you become as great as Hongjoong thinks you can be,” producer Igarashi smiled.

“I’m certainly going to try,” you smiled back shyly.

She smiled again. “Cute. I’ll see you later, Maddox, I’m a bit busy.”

He nodded. “No problem, sunbae.” And closed the door.

When you were far enough away from the door you hopped, too excited to hold in your emotions.

“That was Igarashi Umeko! Are you serious?! Why didn’t you tell me I’d meet her?” You yelled at a whisper while you hit him excitedly.

He smiled as he tried to guard from your attack of happiness. “Did you want to meet her?”

“Well, since she’s not in our little group, I didn’t think I ever would. She did some of my favorite work with the girl group KnightMare… UGH, her visual-kei inspired stuff is so cool.”

Maddox smiled.

Once you got to the studio, you, Maddox and Hongjoong got to work setting up for recording. Hongjoong turned to you, startling you.

“What?”

“‘Music daddy’?”

You stared at him for a moment before remembering what you had said the night before and laughed loudly. “Sorry. I was tired.”

He smiled.

“Don’t laugh so loud, please,” Maddox whined.

“Sorry.” You and Hongjoong went back to setting up. “...Music papa.”

The two of you laughed softly and finished setting up.

Jongho, Satbyeol, and Yunho showed up-- without their managers. It was something you had thought about, back when Doyun started his recording by showing up late, but you had an idea that Hongjoong only asked for their managers to be there with them in case something went wrong. Not only would there be more witnesses to whatever it was, but as the managers should be managing their talent, it was like having a child at school with their parents with them.

When you and the group had left for the barbecue place yesterday, you thought you heard some people in the hall saying that they thought they heard that Doyun’s manager had left him. You wondered if asking about it would make you nosey, probably, but you also wondered if he left from a sense of failure, or a sense of wanting to distance himself from the sex pest. If Doyun was being fired and having charges pressed against him, they’d have to press them against his manager as well, right? He’d have to be culpable to some degree; he spent the most time with Doyun, so he’d have to be an accomplice to at least some of his horrible deeds. You wondered how it would play out during the court case.

But that was something to save for the future, you were sure that the affected staff and their lawyers at Wonderland were all busy getting all of that ready. So far, so many people - not just at Wonderland - had come forward, that it really was beginning to look like a class action lawsuit; but instead of a bunch of people suing a company, they were all suing one guy. There had also been a few official emails from the CEO about the new company policies they were going to institute in order to make it easier for people to report bad behavior like Doyun’s, but to also get people to not feel so afraid of reporting such things. The fear Doyun had struck into all the newer staff had been palpable, and so there were supposed to be new, yearly meetings where the rules and regulations - and what the staff were owed by the company in terms of respect - were going to be reviewed so new staff knew what protections they had, and older staff were reminded in case they had forgotten. The emails also assured the staff that no one would be fired for coming forward with allegations, which sort of cemented in your mind that that might have been the reason none of them came forward about Doyun.

What a fucking mess. At least Wonderland was doing something about it and not trying to hide it like some other companies might have.

“T/n?”

“Huh?” You responded.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at you for a second. “You okay? You were really zoned out just then.”

You looked up from your reverie to find everyone looking at you. Yunho seemed the most concerned, though he was trying to hide it. He wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Yeah, I’m good. I was just thinking about stuff.”

“Anything good?” Jongho asked.

“Wondering if I should switch from Windows to Linux.”

“What?”

“What?” You feigned ignorance.

Yunho suppressed a small laugh.

“Let’s start recording, if everyone’s ready,” Hongjoong said.

A few hours later, each other the three had been in and out of the recording booth, recording, re-recording takes they didn’t like, listening to the songs as a group, and discussing with you and the rest of Crom3r what their characters were expressing at that moment. The difference between the sessions with Doyun and without Doyun were like night and day.

“Okay, let’s break for a bit. Is a half hour good? You can get some food, walk around a bit?” Hongjoong asked.

Everyone agreed. Yunho, Jongho, and Satbyeol left the room, while you, Hongjoong, and Maddox cleaned up some of the lyric sheets and other things you didn’t need anymore.

“It’s so much nicer without Doyun,” Maddox said.

You laughed. “I was just wondering if this was what a normal recording session was like.”

“Ohh yeah,” Hongjoong nodded. “Jongho’s session before he was cast in the show, and this: these are what recording sessions are normally like.”

You nodded.

“Did you hear his manager left?” Maddox asked.

“I thought I heard someone say that. Did he leave him or the company?”

“Both. Well-- he left working for Doyun, but when one of the victims said that he was there when Doyun propositioned her and then left the room, leaving them alone, he was fired.”

“Holy shit.”

“I think Wonderland might be thinking about suing him for endangering the staff with his actions.”

“I don’t think we should talk about this like it’s gossip,” Hongjoong said. “The situation could change day by day, and the court case hasn’t even started yet.”

“Come on, Joong, you’re not curious?”

“I am, but I think it makes more sense to wait until things are settled.”

You and Maddox nodded. You sat in silence for a few moments until Maddox said:

“I wonder if he’ll try to counter-sue anyone.”

Hongjoong sighed.

You chuckled. “Maddox, you’re making our captain sad.”

Hongjoong sighed louder.

You laughed and stood. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

You went to the bathroom and then took a walk around the floor. Instead of corporate art, there were pictures of idols from music show appearances and concerts on the walls. Really nice ones too: interesting angles, the colored lights making the backgrounds super dynamic, some of the idols were mid-dance or mid-jump. They all looked really cool.

“Uh--” You heard.

You looked away from the pictures to see who it was.

Yunho.

Of course.

“Uh-- sorry.” He averted his eyes to the floor and walked past you.

You sighed and turned. “Hey.”

He stopped, seeming to wonder if it was him you were talking to.

You walked up behind him and he turned to face you, fearful, almost.

“We keep running into each other a lot, huh?”

He nodded nervously.

“Why do you look so fucking scared? I’m not going to yell at you or something.”

He relaxed a little.

You sighed. “Listen, since we need to see so much of each other now, I could maybe see my way to not being so horrible to you.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean… I kind of deserved it.”

You shrugged in agreement. “Regardless, I have to help you and we have to interact while we work on the album, so we need to make nice. For the album recording at least.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll… keep my questions and stuff to the recording.”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. But if we end up at another group barbecue, you can talk to me then, too.”

His brows ticked up in shock.

“I don’t want to make an awkward atmosphere for everyone else.”

“Oh! Yeah. That makes sense.”

The two of you stood awkwardly for a few minutes.

“Um…” he trailed off.

You looked at him.

“Do you still play bass?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Oh, um… I was wondering if we’d see you play at all. During the recording.”

“Probably not. It’s not like we’re recording a live band.”

“Oh-- yeah. That’d be silly.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he looked around for a second. Both of you went to speak at the same time.

“We should get back to the studio--”

“Could I maybe have your number?”

You both paused, and stared at each other with wide eyes.

You asked: “What?”

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tellthatbrokebitch · 1 year ago

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for wip wednesday, stonathan snippet from the stick season au

Then one day, he gets a call from Jonathan. He’s just arrived back in the country from his work trip, and the first thing he’d done is check his messages.

“Will, oh god, Mom, is she-” is the first thing he says when Will picks up, his voice a jumbled mess as he stumbles over his words. “I didn’t have any service, I didn’t think – oh god-”

“Jonathan! It’s okay, she’s okay, we’re all okay,” he soothes, raising his voice to be heard over his brother’s rambling. “She’s back home, I’m with her right now. Do you want-”

“Yes! I’m buying a ticket right now, can I-”

Will hands his phone to Joyce, and after a few minutes of listening and talking and crying, he puts it on speaker, and they all cry together.

Karen offers to pick Jonathan up from the airport in Indianapolis, and when they arrive at the house, Joyce is napping. It’s one of Steve’s rare days off, so he’d dropped by to check up on them. They were at the kitchen table, going over the next week’s schedule and drinking some truly terrible coffee Steve picked up on his way.

“Okay, so if we shift this back an hour-”

“Yeah, that should work out. Her PT is-”

“Right, so that would give us plenty of time to-”

“Bash our heads against the wall!” Steve finishes cheerfully, startling Will into a rare laugh. “Just in time for lasagna.”

“You’re making lasagna?” Steve was a terrible cook.

“Uh, no, you’re making lasagna.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, so I can sneak over after my shift and eat it cold standing in front of the fridge like a gremlin at three AM.”

“That sounds legitimately disgusting.”

“Hey, I’ll use a fork!”

“Not the problem I was having with all of that.”

The sound of the door opening surprises them both, but when the familiar silhouette of his brother fills the doorway, Will immediately relaxes. “Jonathan!”

Jonathan holds out his arms and Will’s already shooting up out of his chair, crossing the few steps until he can hug his brother, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. He breathes in the scent of airport that clings to his collar and doesn’t even care. After a long moment, he pulls back and frowns. “You’re like an hour early.”

“Uh, no, it’s after two,” Jonathan points out, and when Will checks his phone, 2:14 flashes mockingly back at him.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. We were busy-” he waves a hand at the table, to the spread of papers and takeout coffee cups and Steve, “going over some stuff, moving around appointments.”

Steve waves awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jonathan says back, a little confused but too polite to show it. To Will he says, “I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Oh, I just – I work at Hawkins Memorial,” Steve says, looking oddly flushed. “I’m just checking in, making sure everything is going well.”

“Sure, if by checking in you mean demanding I make you lasagna,” Will shoots back.

“Okay, not demanding, just gently requesting.”

“You just called yourself a three AM fridge gremlin-”

“Oh, so now we’re just listening to me when I say things? You should know me well enough by now to know how dangerous that is, man.”

Will turns back to Jonathan and he sighs. “He’s terrible, but the other nurses stopped returning my calls, so we’re stuck with him.”

Jonathan’s eyes slide back to Steve, and there’s something in his gaze now that makes Will feel like he should look away. “Congratulations on your BSN,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to leave Indianapolis, definitely not for Hawkins.”

“You – oh.” Steve seems oddly flustered as he scrambles for something to say to that. “I – you know about-”

“Oh.” As Will watches, with the sort of glee only a younger sibling can feel at an older sibling’s embarrassment, a pink flush settles over Jonathan’s face and he too scrambles, stammering, “Yeah, you, uh, your Instagram is public? Um, I follow Nancy and Robin, so-”

“Oh! Right. Um, you could always… actually follow me. If you wanted… um, sometimes Nancy likes your stuff, too, and… your pictures are always beautiful.” Steve’s eyes widen and he hastens to add, “Your photography! Like, the professional shots you post, not – but – not to say you aren’t – obviously you’re-”

Will decides to put him out of his misery – though judging by the soft look in his brother’s eyes and the fond smile, Steve’s not doing too badly. “Steve’s been a lifesaver these past few weeks,” he says. “And not just with the medical side of things. He’s…” Will blows out an unsteady breath. “He’s been great. I’ve been a wreck.”

“Hey, you’ve been doing just fine,” Steve argues back automatically. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Will. It’s not an easy situation for anyone. Give yourself a break.”

He sounds so heartfelt and earnest that Will can’t help his answering grin. “Alright, Nurse Harrington. I feel properly validated.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides Joyce’s calendar back across the table. “Alright, jerk,” he snarks, standing and draining the last of his coffee, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “I’ll clear out so that you can all have family time.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Jonathan sounds so honestly disappointed that it stops both Steve and Will in their tracks. His face flushes. “I mean, uh – are you sure you can’t stay for a bit longer? It would really help to, um, have a medical professional here? In case I have any questions, about Mom’s-” He falters, his face shuttering a bit as he remembers. “Mom’s condition,” he finishes after several seconds of subdued silence.

“I…” Steve flounders for a minute before giving in. “Yeah, no, I can – I can stay.” He smiles. “It’s my day off, and it’s not like my social calendar is popping off these days.” He reaches over and ruffles Will’s hair before he can do more than squawk in protest. “Annoyingly, this little butthead’s kind of my best friend right now.”

Jonathan’s face softens back into a smile – and oh god, he all but has literal heart eyes. “Yeah, he’s mine, too,” he says. “We can work out a timeshare.”

“Or just get fucking married,” Will mumbles under his breath, cursing when Steve pokes into his side with what must be his boniest finger.

“I’m just gonna go see Mom and then get washed up. She’s… is she sleeping?”

The tremor in his brother’s voice, the same lost look in his eyes that Will’s seen staring back at himself whenever he’s looked in a mirror in the last six weeks, tug at Will’s heartstrings and he finds himself blinking back tears. “Yeah, but go ahead,” he tells Jonathan, clearing his throat when the words come out as little more than a croak. “It’s almost time for her meds anyway. I’ll be in in a few minutes, okay?”

Jonathan just nods, darting one last look in Steve’s direction before adjusting the strap of his carry-on bag and sliding past them to the hallway. Will watches him go, and when he’s out of sight, he turns to Steve to find him doing the same. Steve is entirely incapable of controlling his face, so Will catches the way his expression changes from a sort of gobsmacked longing to something more neutral in real time, and that’s- “Gross, Steve, that’s my brother!”

#tellthatbrookebitch #stranger things #stonathan #will byers #steve harrington #jonathan byers #wip wednesday #and technical it’s #byler fic

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player1064 · 9 months ago

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october 2023 <3 <3 <3

WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP

---

October, 2023.

Jamie is normally a punctual person, but when it comes to things organised by Gary he tries to be just on the wrong side of late, because he enjoys how fussy he gets about it. Unfortunately, today the traffic was against him and the drive over from Liverpool was an absolute breeze, so now he’s sat in the THG car park wondering if he should loiter for another half hour or just get over it and go in early.

He looks over at Gary’s car, for once parked neatly within the lines, and figures that’s as good a thing to tease him about as any so he might as well just go in.

“And look, look,” he hears Gary saying excitedly as he approaches the studio. “This one’s my seat, right, and then –”

“Where’m I? Next to you?”

“Ooh, steady on,” Gary says, and Jamie can hear the stupid little grin in his voice. “No, that’s Carragher’s spot, you’ll be in the middle. Better camera angle there, anyway.”

Jamie stops just before the double doors that lead on to set, leans against the wall and drops his head back with a dull thud. He’s not sure how he’d managed to forget, Gary’s been pestering the podcast group chat about it for weeks. ‘Remember we’ve got Becks on tomorrow, everyone (👀Jamie) on their best behaviour!!!’

“That’s next to Keaney, right?” he hears Beckham ask. “Then who’s on my other side, Jill or Wrighty?”

“Oh, that’ll be Jill. Wouldn’t want to separate Roy and Ian, they’re fantastic together. And Jill is so excited, y’know, you’re her hero.”

“Aw,” says Beckham, with a bashful little laugh, “hope I don’t disappoint. Bit crazy that, innit? I mean, she’s the one with a European championship under her belt.”

The two of them fall quiet for a moment, which Jamie reads as his opportunity to enter the room without interrupting. This, of course, is a mistake; clearly luck is not on Jamie’s side today. He slips quietly through the door and is going to walk over but stops in his tracks when he sees them.

Beckham’s got Gary pressed up against the counter, his hands spread wide on Gary’s hips and Gary’s arms looped around his neck. They’re not kissing, it might’ve been better if they were – instead they’re stood there, heads tilted in close but not quite close enough for their foreheads to touch, and they’re just talking to each other, voices too soft for Jamie to hear.

That’s not the bad part. The bad part is that Gary and Beckham are laughing at whatever stupid little inside joke they’re sharing, and the smile on Gary’s face isn’t one Jamie’s ever seen before. It’s like he’s glowing, and Jamie’s stomach churns with guilt at walking in on something that feels far more intimate than just kissing.

He’s debating whether he should turn around and leave, wait for one of the others to arrive and walk back in with them, when Gary looks over and catches his eye, his smile faltering. Beckham frowns at him in question, then looks over with a polite smile when Gary nods his head towards Jamie.

Jamie watches Beckham’s hand squeeze Gary’s hip for a moment before he takes a step back, shakes his head at Gary fondly and walks towards Jamie with an outstretched hand.

“Good to see you, Carra,” he greets, and dear god Jamie hates him.

He hates him, he hates him, he hates him.

Jamie shakes the offered hand with his most charming smile. “You too. ‘s been a while, eh?”

“It has, yeah, but you know our Gaz,” he says, looking behind him to shoot a grin at Gary. Gary at least has the decency to be looking at the floor in embarrassment, hands fidgeting. “He’s never liked having crossover between his work and social lives, has he?”

Jamie’s not sure when he was relegated to just ‘work friend’. Maybe he never got out of that category to begin with.

Recording the podcast is excruciating. David Beckham is just a bit too perfect, everyone loves him just a bit too much. Even Roy relaxes around him, lets his guard down. He almost smiles, once or twice. The nation’s sweetheart David fucking Beckham, still thought of as their beloved England captain even now, ten years out of the game.

David Beckham, saving the world one corny inspirational speech at a time. David Beckham, one of the best technical players Jamie’s ever seen, whose talents are so often ignored in favour of the fact that he’s David Beckham. David Beckham who never boasts, who’s flash without rubbing your face in it, who always has time for everyone he meets.

David Beckham, probably the most famous footballer of his generation, who looks at Gary Neville like he hung the moon and stars. Gary Neville.

It’s not fair. He could do better than him. He should have done better than him, found another superstar to shack up with and left the poor mortals alone. Maybe then Jamie would’ve had half a chance.

He just really hates David fucking Beckham.

#this bit issss. there's a lot that's happened between gary and jamie at this point in the fic #in terms of that the carraville situation is Not unrequited it's just messy on account of the #'gaz & becks have been together since they were 18' situation. yes jamie seems the only miserable one here but trust me #they are ALL miserable.#carraville #beville #wip asks

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satanickpanick · 2 years ago

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dialogue-based fic teaser :) this is my version of whatever went down inside the frozen locked room in DADDIES hq. finished fic coming soon! if you'd like to be tagged lmk

Willy fucking Stampler, Jesus fuck, paces and mutters for about three minutes before Lark starts really wanting to bash his head into the wall. Immobilized, he settles for yelling. “If you don’t shut the fuck up real fuckin’ quick I’ll fuckin’-”

Willy lunges, way too close and way losing his cool. “You’ll what? You’ll fuckin’ what, no, please, enlighten me, because last I checked, you can’t do jack shit!”

“I wonder why-”

“I should’ve killed you all when I-”

Sparrow, as per usual, pipes up just when things are getting fun, from where he has his back to Lark’s. “Back the fuck up-”

“-and maybe I wouldn’t be in this fuckin’ mess-”

“Guys!” TJ is just out of Lark’s sight, but he can picture the expression on his face pretty clearly- clearly enough that he shuts up. “Chill the fuck out, okay? We’re in this-” painfully- “together, right now, Jesus Christ, and the longer we’re stuck in here the worse it’s gonna get. It’s like…”

“Like Big Brother,” Grant offers.

“Whose big brother?”

“1984?” Willy rounds on Sparrow. “You haven’t read fuckin’ 1984?”

TJ blinks. “Yeah, like, with the ‘there are five fingers’ and shit, but that’s not-”

“No, no, the reality show, they lock a bunch of people in a house and by the end they all, like, hate each other.” Lark’s pretty sure Grant’s getting his strongest what the hell are you on look since the Habanero Incident of ‘31. Like, he’s on the edge of hysterics (which he is) about some fucking TV show. “It’s a thing! It’s been a thing for like forty years.”

“Oh my fucking God.”

“Marco likes it!”

“Oh? And how is Marco?”

“I dunno, Willy, how about you tell me? You’re the one who’s been out on the town stirring up a fuckin’ panic.”

“Stirring shit, more like.” Lark interjects.

“Endangering our kids,” TJ mentions.

“Seducing Nicky’s ex,” Sparrow adds. “While we clean up your mess.”

“Seducing? Jesus, I get it, you all hate me, what else is new. Can we go back to being productive? What the shit is crunchy and warm?”

“Deez-”

“TJ.” God, Grant sounds like his mom sometimes. And the patented Carol Wilson Cut-It-Out Stare… Lark wheeze-laughs despite himself. They’re all just- ridiculous.

“What?”

“That’s how Glenn fucking died, you wanna die?”

“I mean, kinda!” TJ makes a sound halfway between a laugh and the sound Lark imagines a dying baby moose would make.

“Same,” he replies reflexively, at the same time that Sparrow says, “Jeez, dude, do you need to talk to somebody- Lark, come on.”

“You come on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Sparrow leans back, knocking his head against the back of Lark’s.

“Ow.”

“That didn’t hurt.”

“Yeah it did, ‘cause of your fat head.”

“Maybe if yours wasn’t so damn hard.”

“Okay-”

“Oh, for the love of God, I’m gonna die here.”

#dndads #dndads fic #dndads s2 #kiddads #willy stampler #terry jr stampler #lark oak garcia #sparrow oak swallows garcia #grant wilson #dungeons and daddies

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call-sign-shark · 6 days ago

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*scream and bash my head against the wall* FLOR THIS WAS SO PERFECT I CAN’T. Thank you so much for this gift, I am beyond touched. Seriously. I know I stray away from PB with these two but I love them sm that the fact you took time to write this adorable fic and create this moodboard literally brought tears to my eyes. Even more knowing that, I’m this life, Rose and Heaven finally gets to be the best duo ever.

Everything in this is so perfect that I struggle to organize my thought and I’m fighting against the urge to paste every single line and comment on it. The settings is so lovely, I mean the two of them opening gifts in the empty common room near the crooked little tree is so heartwarming. I have to mention the line that says that when watching them no one would see two patients in a mental hospital but a beautiful, normal couple. Because that’s the thing: together they are stronger than their illnesses and can find solace. The intimacy and normalcy of the scene are adorable. The line “better than the sad pathetic tree that have the opposite effect on patients” hurt me to the core because this is so true… However the line “until we can find our own tree. The biggest” literally made me squeal in my pillow. This is such a Amos thing to say.

Can we also talk about Rose and James?! They are the best and most caring friends ever. When Heaven says that she can’t believe these two exceptional people care about them is true: she feels beyond grateful to have them in her life. It leads me to that line about Heaven trusting no one and thinking that people were all the same… For sure she changed her mind when she met James and Rosie. She might be the one who looks like an angel but, for her, this is James and Rose who has wings. Their gifts are also spot on: I cannot get over the fact you remembered all those tiny details about the character: Heaven loving lemon pies (and Amos mentioning it to James aw), the MP3 with metal music carefully chosen by James with love (I love this man to death, pls don’t touch me), the funny animals hoodie, the silly monkey ref… You are such a thoughtful and incredible mutual friend, Flor.

Honestly, when they’ll be out of the hospital, one of the first things they’d do would be to contact James and Rosie to invite them to a restaurant and spent all the evening together. I can easily see the two couples being super close!! “Sometimes monsters needed friends” YEA GURL THIS IS IT.

And what about the way you wrote both Heaven and Amos? They are spot on, in characters, and more perfect than what I could have written for them. Every of their interaction, beside making me swoon and giggle, is so accurate for them. I love how playful and cuddly they are. I mean, Heaven smearing a bit of cake on his nose

Also this whole excerpt “Of course not! What made you think that? That I was ready to walk through the corridor in middle of the night, breaking several rules, because of you? Or your beautiful face? It's all because of them, my sweet girl." What a little adorable and enamored bastard. 🤭 Once again I am BAFFLED at how good you analyzed and wrote him, Flor. All playful, cocky and sweet. Of course it’s only for Mrs. Chaos and the little tree that he comes. For no other reasons!! 😬🖤 Moreover let’s not judge the hyena’s name, he did his best. 🤣

Last but not least: THE MOODBOARD!!! THE MOODBOARD IS SUCH A PERFECT ILLUSTRATION OF EACH GIFT (the hyena and monkey sent me)!! The whole picture conveys softness and happiness so well that I can’t stop staring at it and smiling like an idiot. The picture you chose for illustrating Heaven is literally one I have in her Pinterest board. And that pic of Ben Barnes????

My baby, my love, he looks over the moon!! No language has enough words to tell you how grateful I am. Thank you so much Flor, I’ll cherish this until I die. 🖤🖤🖤

Also I told y’all Amos was deadly in love and that, with proper therapy, he’d be the best. I’m beyond happy that I’ve managed to make you love him.

Friends and festivities.

This is longer than I originally planned. But I like it.

It's also a bit, just a bit, different from the timeline you have @call-sign-shark yet, I hope you like it anyway.

I couldn't help but write something about these two because I simply love them.

"Seems Santa came full of presents for you this morning," a nurse said to Amos and Heaven leaving a big package on the table they were at. Plus a cardboard box with the name of a bakery on it. Neither of them needed to ask who sent those presents to them, they already knew. Most people feared them, reputation preceded them. But it happens that, sometimes, monsters needed friends.

Amos smiled as he saw Heaven opening the smallest box first that contained a lemon pie. Her smile matched his.

"Have you something to do with this? How did they know lemon pie is my favourite thing?"

"I thought I was your favourite thing."

"You can't compite," she said putting meringue on his nose, "but you're close."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Amos answered cleaning himself "No. I didn't even know about this! But maybe I mentioned to James that you liked it. It was just a comment, I didn't imagine he was going to remember it."

"This is really nice and so are you for mentioning it," Heaven said and kissed his cheek. "Would you like to open the big box?"

"Yeah!" Amos exclaimed not waiting for another sign of approval and proceeding to tear the wrapping paper decorated with reindeers.

If someone had been watching at them, then this person would have seen a beautiful couple opening the presents on Christmas morning like thousands of them across the world and not two patients in a psychiatric ward monitored the 24 hours. But in that moment, they were alone so no one was looking at them.

It didn't take long for the table to be covered by the things they received: Dozens of pictures of Heaven that James took of her that Amos wanted plus a couple of photos were they were together. A MP3 player filled with hundreds of metal music, that according to the note that accompanied it, they were selected by James because Rose had no idea about that. The ridiculous hoodies she promised Amos to do for him (and Heaven if she wanted to) were also part of the gifts. Two crocheted animals that made both of laugh.

"This is you," she said holding the monkey.

"That's me?" he asked stealing it from her hands, "you are not going to let it go, are you?"

"But he's adorable as you are... And no, I'm not," she said smiling, admiring the hyena that was for her. "Would you like to pick a name for her?"

"Mrs. Chaos."

"Oh, you can do better. I'll think one myself later," Heaven said putting the hyena aside and picking the the last gift that was a snow globe. "This is pretty. More beautiful than the sad, pathetic tree we have here," Heaven said glaring at the Christmas tree that the stuff put there to cheer the patients up but caused the opposite effect. I never see one in a while."

"You can have it," he said. There was a sparkle of happiness in her eyes that wasn't frequent and Amos couldn't help but smile again.

"Oh no, I bet it could look better in your room."

"Of course not! Besides, Mrs. Chaos deserves her own Christmas tree until we can have our own tree. The biggest one of all. And," Amos smirked, "it's a good excuse for me to visit your room and see them."

"Them? Not me?"

"Of course not! What made you think that? That I was ready to walk through the corridor in middle of the night, breaking several rules, because of you? Or your beautiful face? It's all because of them, my sweet girl."

"You're an idiot," she replied chuckling but allowed him to kiss her. "Merry Christmas, Amos."

"Merry Christmas, love."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Have you ever considered the possibility that someone like them could care about us enough to give us something?"

"No, but there they are."

Heaven thought about it. There was a time when she thought that all people were the same. She still knew very well that most people prefer to judge those like her or Amos, sadly. But after knowing them, the idea that all people were the same wasn't part of her anymore. Maybe one day when she left the hospital, she'd spend the festivities with them and Amos. That'd be nice.

But for now it was her, Amos and the promise that good things were about to come.

The PB era stole this friendship, but this modern timeline made it possible ��❤️.

#Flor 🖤#The number of times I’ve read this in one day is unhealthy #You gift me a AMOS-RELATED thing? sorry but I can’t #Better than what Santa Claus could do #I’m tearing up fr #Echoes of Shadow #Heaven Lavey #Amos Von Bismarck #Amos x Heaven #General Kirigan #Aleksander Morozova

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mikkomacko · 3 years ago

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So not sure if you’re going to understand this but here’s my idea: the team not knowing that the reader is dating both Bucky and Steve (Stucky) and they confront her and say some awful things like she’s using them, a cheating wh*re etc. and she just starts crying and runs and locks herself in their room (or whatever you’d like). Then Stucky comes back or out from somewhere looking for her and then they ask the team and the team tells them that she was “cheating” on both of them with each other and then they’re like no we’re all dating each other and the team feels all bad and you can end it how you want lol. You don’t have to do this and sorry if it’s bad.

A/n: Sorry it took so long! Hope it's ok! <3

Two Avengers dating would cause enough gossip in itself, but three Avengers? Two of which have been best friends since the 40s? She can't imagine what kind of reaction that would get out of Sam or Nat who have always teased Steve and Bucky about being really good friends.

So when y/n, Bucky, and Steve made their relationship official, they kept it as low-key as possible. Anything beyond cuddling was reserved for the privacy of their rooms, flirting had to be subtle, and all dates were far from the Avengers compound.

They just had to pray they could follow the rules and keep their hands to themselves when others were around.

Drumming her fingers on the folder, y/n heads up HR to submit her latest mission report. It was simple surveillance mission, nothing exciting to report on but she'd been gone for over a week and wanted to get the report in asap so it could be done with. Dropping it off on the incoming desk, she promptly turns on her heel to head to lunch but is stopped just outside of the doorway by a hand on her bicep. She's tugged into the hidden corner before she can even react, two strong arms caging her against the cool wall.

Bucky, dressed for a training session, stands before her, blue eyes sparkling and lips smiling. Immediately, her guard falls, lips widening into a smile that reflects the same love shining through Bucky's.

"Careful Barnes," she teases, "next time I won't be so kind about ya pawing at me."

He clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't be pawing if you'd come to see me as soon as you got back."

"Paperwork waits for no one. Not even Cap and Sarge."

He sighs playfully. "Damn doll, that hurts. Think ya should kiss it better."

So she does. Cupping his jaw between two soft palms, y/n seals their mouths together in a tender kiss, completely blind to Bruce and Tony who have just caught sight of them from down the hall.

Bucky heads down to the gym and y/n heads to room to clean up before lunch, ignoring his pleas for her to join him. She's technically on recovery from her last mission and she's definitely going to milk that for a day off. She's approaching her door when one just down the hall opens, a familiar blond head of hair coming into view.

She pauses, leaning her shoulder against the doorway and smiles at him. "Hey Cap, fancy seeing you here."

He lifts his head, soft blue eyes meeting hers and he smiles that cute little smirk only Steve Rogers could smile. "Hey, heard you got back early this morning."

"Yeah, way early." She laughs, tilting her chin up as he moves closer.

"How'd it go?"

He stops in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. It's his typical go-ahead-I'm-listening stance but by the way he's eyeing her mouth she knows he doesn't actually want to hear it right now. Steve always tries to hide the fact that he's just as clingy as Bucky.

"Is that really what you're going to ask me, Rogers? After being gone for so long you want my mission run down right now?"

He chuckles, dipping his head and lightly shaking it. "No not really."

"So what's your real question?"

Bashful, he meets her eyes again. "Can I have a hello?"

Y/n laughs, butterflies fluttering in her chest as she rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. He gently grips her waist, pulling her just the slightest bit closer and humming in content. She throws her arms around his neck, fingertips shifting into the hair at the base of his neck, once again too caught up in her boyfriend to notice Nat and Sam have just spotted them from the end of the corridor.

"You'll never believe what we just saw!" Sam shouts, hightailing it into the kitchen with Natasha hot on his heels. Bruce and Tony both startle in their seats at the table, water sloshing over the edge of Bruce's mug.

"Nuh-uh, we're first." Tony says, shaking his head.

"No we are." Sam insists, Tony opening his mouth to continue the argument but Natasha cuts him off.

"Rogers and y/n are together."

And that makes Tony and Bruce pause. Sam whoops proudly, smirking at the two as they share looks of confusion.

"Steve and y/n?" Bruce confirms, eyebrows pinching together when Nat nods firmly.

Tony sighs. "Well that puts us in a bit of pickle because we saw Barnes with his tongue down her throat."

Sam's jaw drops. "What? When?"

"Earlier today!" Bruce exclaims, motioning towards the HR department. "She was dropping off paperwork and he just grabbed her and kissed her."

"Well we just watched Steve pin her against a door and kiss her not even ten minutes ago." Nat exclaims, anger building up in her veins. "Which means we've got a problem."

Sam turns to her, just as angry. "Damn right we do!"

Bottom lip between her teeth, y/n attempts to hide the giddy smile that's been plastered on her face since her reunion with her boys. It's a weak attempt because she's practically as bright as a ray of sunshine but she doesn't really care. She's happy. She's so incredibly happy and she wants it to last forever.

Unfortunately for her, the feeling is cut short far too soon because as soon as she enters the kitchen, 4 pairs of eyes are glaring at her.

"Hey everyone," she says tentatively, slowing to a stop. "what's going on?"

Sam scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you tell us what's going on?" He says coldly, "You know besides you macking on our friends."

Macking on his friends? Oh god, Steve and Bucky! They found out about their relationship...

Her jaw drops, cut-off guard. "Wait! I can explain-"

"Cheaters don't get an explanation." Nat cuts off, eyes mean and piercing. Y/n heart sinks into her stomach. Cheating? She'd never cheat in her life, especially not on Bucky and Steve.

"Cheating? I'm not-"

Tony rises from his seat. "Save it y/n. We know you're cheating on Bucky and Steve with each other. How could you do that? They're like brothers and your just using them-"

"No I'm not!" She insists, panicking under the hateful gazes. "You guys don't understand. Just let me-"

"No!" Sam cuts off. "Bucky and Steve have both gone through so much. Do you realize how difficult it must have been for them to open up to you? And you thew it all away. You hurt them. You're a bitch y/n, full honestly."

Tears sting her eyes. Sam's never said anything like that to her let alone anyone they know. He's always been so kind and welcoming so to hear such hurtful words from him has her stunned. She can't even think of anything to say to defend herself.

"Y-you really think that lowly of me?" She sniffles, "That I would do something like that?"

"We saw it, y/n." Banner responds, nose scrunched in disgust. "Now get outta here before we throw you out."

Insulted and insecure, she shakes her head. "I can't believe you all." Then she turns on her heel, running to the safety of her room.

Bucky's spotting Steve on the bench press when the foursome of Avengers walk in, somber looks on their faces.

"Steve," Bucky says, gaining his attention. Immediately the super soldier is setting down his weights, sitting up to look at their friends.

"What's going on? Is someone hurt?" Steve asks, rising to his feet. Sam shakes his head, smiling sympathetically.

"No one's hurt," he assures "but we've got something to tell you."

Bucky swallows nervously, something in him going on high alert. He knows that this is about y/n, that something's happened and it makes him anxious. Where is she?

"What?" Bucky asks, noticing the lingering anger in Nat's eyes.

"It's y/n," she says "she-"

"She what?" Bucky interrupts quickly, readying himself to sprint upstairs.

"She's cheating," Tony says, eyes flickering between the two men. "On you two. With each other."

Oh, Bucky wasn't expecting that. He turns to Steve, the two sharing a silent conversation between themselves. They know? Looks like it pal. How'd that happen? I told you to be careful...

"Don't worry, we already gave her a piece of our minds-"

"You what?!" Steve suddenly asks, finally realizing what they're saying. They think y/n cheated on them because they don't know they're all three dating each other. And they confronted her about it.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks lowly.

"The truth," Sam says proudly. "that she's a bitch for using you both."

Before anyone can react Bucky is rushing towards the doors, abandoning his belongings in favor of checking on y/n. Steve doesn't mind, knowing that when it comes to being emotional and open, Bucky is typically the one she leans on. He's good at being a comforting shoulder.

"Oh god Sam," Steve sighs. "Y/n isn't cheating-"

"Yeah-"

"No she's not!" He shouts, startling them. "She's not. For the past few months we've been dating. The three of us."

The silence is almost amusing if Steve wasn't too busy thinking of his girl upstairs, upset.

"Like a throuple?" Bruce asks, confused.

Steve nods shortly. "Thanks for accusing her instead of talking it out. Appreciate it." He says icily, pushing around them. Stalking towards the exit, he calls over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a girl to go check on."

Bucky has wrapped her up like a burrito in the comforter from his bed on the floor of her room, leaning back against the side of the matress with her sat between his parted thighs. Her eyes are still wet and swollen but she's giggling through her sniffles, a spoon hanging out of her mouth and a bowl of soup in her lap. They both look up when he enters the room, Y/n smiling shyly and Bucky relieved.

"We ok sweetheart?" He asks, waiting for her nod before looking to Bucky.

"We're good Steve," he promises, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with his hand and brushing his fingers through it. "She was just frustrated. Didn't know they could think she'd do something like that."

"That's because she wouldn't," Steve says firmly, sitting on the floor next to them. "and we know that y/n. We know you'd never hurt us like that."

"I love you Steve," she swears, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you Buck. Thanks for doing this for me."

"Course doll," Bucky says, kissing the side of her head. "Don't have to thank us for loving you." Steve hums his agreement.

"But..."Bucky quickly adds, "you can thank me after I beat Sam's ass for calling you that."

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes. "Buck..." He says warningly but he doesn't even finish the scolding thought because their boyfriend's threat has made y/n smile and that's all they could ever ask for.

#stucky x reader #stucky blurb #Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes blurb #steve rogers blurb

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years ago

Text

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller.

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter.

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom.

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?”

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor.

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist.

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however.

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet.

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed.

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet.

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you.

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone.

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone.

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed.

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak.

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket.

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back.

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you.

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye.

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?”

Jason glances over at you.

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down.

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film.

“Oh,” is all you can muster out.

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together.

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands.

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment.

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click.

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him.

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to.

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird.

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

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nebulousfishgills · 3 years ago

Text

In Reality

Request by @nosfera1 : hiiiii is your request open? i was wondering if i could ask for an angsty wanda x fem!r fic where they've been in a relationship for a year and r is absolutely head over heels with her. r planned their anniversary date and during that dinner wanda confesses that she's only been dating r to move on from her previous relationship the whole time and cant carry it in her conscience anymore? make it reaaally really heart wrenching as possible please. thank youuuuu

Ah, thank you so much for sending in your request!! (Yes, requests are open lol). I'm always excited to recieve a new request, especially for a character I have yet to write for!

I hope I get this the way you want! ❤

Warnings: Angst, feels, fluff (but like, fake?)

ฯฯฯ

"Wan, are you okay?" You asked, noticing your girlfriend looking a bit uncomfortable. Her hands were in her lap, her eyes staring at the table or the wall, and she seemed like she was zoning in and out. "Wanda?"

"What? Oh, yes, dear?" She asked, jerking up from looking at the muted paisley tablecloth.

"I was wondering if you were okay." You repeated.

"Yes, I'm alright, dear. Just a little tired is all." She said, showing her teeth in a smile that almost seemed forced. You chose to ignore it.

"I was going to say, but I didn't want to be rude." You said, chuckling.

"We've been together for a year, we can tell each other anything."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

The waiter brought your dishes not long after that, the thin veil of steam curling off the top of the Italian dishes you ordered. Your glasses were refilled and parmesan was grated on top of your meals.

You started nearly scarfing down your food, the wait having been a little too long without a breadstick refill. You watched Wanda gently cut through the meatballs on the top of her pasta, dividing them into quarters. The delicate movement entranced you for a moment, a bashful smile creeping onto your face.

To say you loved Wanda would be a severe understatement. The past year you had been together was the best year of your life. Before, you had been in a slump, everything seeming sad and dreary. You had been having a particularly bad day that day, as a matter of fact. You missed the bus in the morning, so you had to walk to work. Halfway through, it started raining buckets and you had no umbrella. You were lucky your boss was so understanding, else she would have reprimanded you for sure for being late. Still, the woman signed your paychecks; staying on her good side was in your best interest.

While pondering your latest excuse for being late to work again, it suddenly stopped raining.

No, someone was holding an umbrella over you.

That someone happened to be Wanda, offering her umbrella to you to shelter from the storm. You took one look at her and it was as if the color started to soak back into your previously grey world. Not only was this woman going out of her way to help you, she was beautiful as well.

Wanda held the umbrella over your head while you both walked to where you worked (she didn't mind in the slightest; she didn't have a set destination when she started walking). You told each other a few things about yourselves to pass the time. You were working at your current job until you could afford to move to a better part of the city. The apartment you lived in currently had a lot of small problems that would pop up every now and then that would take your savings. Your dishwasher had just broken and you needed to save up to get that replaced.

Wanda told you about things in her life, too. Her brother had died a few years ago in what she called a "tragic accident." Her last relationship had ended pretty suddenly more recently, so she took frequent walks to give herself something to do.

Suddenly your dishwashers woes seemed so nominal.

You arrived at the building you worked at and Wanda bid you goodbye. Though, not before passing you a small slip of paper with a few digits on it you recognized as a phone number. You went pink and walked into your office, sending a text to Wanda as soon as you sat down. You saw each other more frequently after that, going on your first date not long after.

And here Wanda was, sitting in front of you with her steaming pasta and quarter sliced meatballs. You ate your dinners in silence to start, the only noises between you two being the scratches of utensils on plates and quiet chewing.

After a few minutes, you noticed Wanda poking at her pasta with her fork. She hadn't eaten very much. Her chin rested on her other hand, the food on her plate starting to cool down.

"Wan, are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I'm fine..." Wanda replied, letting out an exhale as if she were holding her breath. She put the fork down and rested her hand on the table.

"Wanda, it's okay. If something's bothering you, you can tell me." You said, resting your hand on top of hers. She took it, rolling your fingers in hers. She pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap, her other hand following suit. She took a breath.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" She asked.

"Anything, Wan." You said. Wanda took in another breath and looked you in the eyes. That's how you knew she was getting dead serious with you.

"This isn't easy but... I can't keep holding it in. I can't do this anymore." She said.

"Can't do what?"

"This." She wagged her finger in between the two of you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"What do you mean? You can't do--?" You asked, your voice cracking slightly.

"No, I can't." Wanda cut in. "Listen, Y/N, I'm telling you this now so I don't hurt you worse later on. I can't keep stringing you along."

"'Stringing me along?' Wanda, I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

"I... I... No. It's just..." Wanda bit her lip and averted her gaze from you.

"Just what? Something I did? What did I do, Wanda?"

"Nothing! You did nothing! It's not you, Y/N, it's just..."

"Wanda, are you joking? One year, Wanda! This is our one year anniversary and you're telling me this now??" You asked, the tears streaming down your face through your anger.

"I know, it's not ideal, but I couldn't find time to tell you before!"

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't? You're telling me you lied to me for a year, Wanda. Why?"

"Because I needed a distraction, okay? My last relationship ended badly and I was having a hard time getting over it. I thought you would... provide support until I could get back on my feet." Wanda admitted. Your face got hotter as the realization sunk in. Your voice got low as you continued speaking.

"You used me? You dated me to get over someone else? Is that all I was to you? Just a distraction? A plaything?" You growled.

"Y/N, you don't understand--"

"Oh, no, I understand plenty, Wanda." You stood up from your seat, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your handbag. You looked at the half empty water glass at your seat and picked it up. You examined the water inside for a moment, looking at Wanda over the rim. "I'd throw the water in your face right about now, but unlike you, I have standards on how people should be treated. Like a person with feelings and not something you use to play pretend with."

You downed the rest of the water and put the glass back on the table.

"Y/N--" Wanda said weakly, but you cut her off with a pinch of your fingers.

"Not another word, Wanda." You snapped, before turning around to walk away. "Don't even try to call me."

You burst out of the restaurant and sat down on one of the stone benches out front. You sent a quick text to your friend asking for a ride home, sending the address. Wanda had driven you here.

"What happened to your date?" Your friend asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright. I'm on my way."

You shut off your phone and stared up at the sky. Not a moment later, thunder rumbled above you and it started to rain.

You had no umbrella to cover you.

Finally, you allowed yourself to cry, your tears mixing with the rainwater that dripped onto your face. You let everything out, all the anger and sorrow until your throat went raw.

The headlights of your friend's car pierced through the wall of rain. You stood up and ran over, climbing inside of the heated car. You let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"You okay?" Your friend asked. You didn't reply, just turned to look out the window, the raindrops gliding down it. As the car started pulling away, someone ran outside of the restaurant, screaming your name.

Wanda.

You looked at her as your friend pulled out of the parking lot. Wanda caught sight of you inside the car, watching you leave. You just stared back at her coldly as your friend whisked you away back home.

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you blocked Wanda's number and collapsed onto your sofa. Tears leaked down your face as you fell asleep.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, nosfera!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!

#marvel #movies #avengers #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #female reader #wanda x fem!reader #fishgills writing #writing request #my inbox is open

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Text

Curse-breaker (Chapter 2/4)

- ao3 -

“If you can’t find him, that means it’s not meant to be,” the Nie sect leader said, and perhaps looked a little relieved somewhere beneath the grim scowl that had replaced the easygoing smile he had once had. “Let it be, then. Only…”

“Yes, Sect Leader?”

“I want our borders shut,” he said, his gaze distant, his hands tucked behind his back in stiffest formality. “Let no cultivator pass through; no scion or servant of any other sect, large or small.”

“Sect Leader…?”

“I don’t care what it does to our reputation,” he said, voice flat. “I don’t care if it hurts our commerce, makes everyone laugh at us as cowards – I don’t care about anything like that. That he’s well enough to evade us does not mean he is out of danger. If anyone else should find out…”

He shook his head.

“I have failed him enough already. I will not do so again.” He turned his head to stare at his subordinates. “Shut it down. All of it!”

They saluted, and went to enact his will.

Lan Wangji hadn’t been especially impressed with the Nie sect at first.

They were loud and constantly moving yet also guarded and standoffish, as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted people to pay attention to them or to leave them alone. He initially had thought it was arrogance the same way as the Jin sect, wanting to be looked at without wanting to admit it, but after some observation he’d realized that it really wasn’t like that at all. It was a little more, he thought, that they were naturally outgoing and extroverted, innately social in nature, and had to keep reminding themselves that they actually didn’t like any other people.

Certainly that was the impression the Nie sect heir gave off.

Nie Huaisang was Lan Wangji’s age, but he was much less accomplished – he talked a lot, smiled a lot, was a lot, and yet Lan Wangji didn’t think he’d ever actually said a single thing that really mattered. Lan Wangji hadn’t thought much about Nie Huaisang at all other than gritting his teeth and acting as his escort on the Nie sect’s first visit to another sect in years and years, thinking that if Nie Huaisang was any example, the Nie sect’s fearsome reputation for being as straight and unsubtle as their sabers was all a bunch of nonsense. Maybe he would have gone on thinking that, too, except that on the fourth day of their visit he discovered that Nie Huaisang listened as well as talked.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang said at one point, smiling. “Could you repeat that?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t really been paying attention, and he certainly hadn’t been speaking – he looked at Nie Huaisang in askance, wondering if he’d accidentally said something he wasn’t aware of.

“Your father,” Nie Huaisang clarified, and Lan Wangji tensed. “How often is he in seclusion?”

Lan Wangji frowned, cautious – that was a secret, of course, one of the family secrets. Everything behind what happened with his parents was secret. “Quite often,” he temporized. “He’s trying to focus on his cultivation –”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Nie Huaisang said, cheerfully cutting him off without making it seem like he was doing that. “My da-ge says that he heard from – from somewhere, anyway, that he wasn’t just in seclusion often but always. He says that your father hasn’t used his sword in years, leaving it to rust on the wall, betraying all his old principles of swordsmanship.”

Lan Wangji bristled, thinking that it was an insult, but Nie Huaisang was looking at him, face open and sincere and, for once, serious, and looking over his words Lan Wangji had to admit there was more truth to it than lies. And wasn’t his uncle always saying do not tell lies?

“It’s not his choice,” he said, trying to defend it even as he wondered who was the da-ge that Nie Huaisang was referring to, since he was supposed to be the only heir of Qinghe Nie. “He has to be there, because of –”

He stopped.

“Because of what?” Nie Huaisang asked. His eyes were too sharp, too knowing, and suddenly Lan Wangji was sure he already knew. “Because of the broken sword buried under his house?”

“…my mother’s,” Lan Wangji said, and knew that he had admitted too much.

Except maybe keeping secrets the way he was supposed to wasn’t actually what he was supposed to do, because Nie Huaisang nodded and said, “My da-ge wouldn’t like that.”

Then he went back to his father and said something about how his da-ge wouldn’t approve of what was going on and the next thing Lan Wangji knew, Sect Leader Nie was striding through the Cloud Recesses with a terrifying scowl, going straight up to the house where Lan Wangji’s father was in seclusion and tearing the door right off the hinges.

“She’s dead already,” he bellowed, voice echoing right down the bones. “You should save your care for the living, or else you’ll blink and next thing they’ll be gone. Gone right along with the dead you’ve already lost. Don’t you dare throw away your chance the way I did!”

After that, all of a sudden, Lan Wangji had a father again.

“There are rumors, you know,” Lan Xichen said.

He was having tea in the garden in the small teahouse just outside of the Nie sect lands in Qinghe, the place where the Nie sect usually received its visitors now that the Unclean Realm and most of its surrounding environs were shut off from the world by fiercely patrolling guards. He was with Nie Huaisang, who barely stopped talking, and Lan Wangji, who almost never started; ever since the day old Sect Leader Nie had forced Qingheng-jun out of seclusion and back into the world, they had been the most unlikely pair of best friends he could have ever imagined. Whenever they were together, they fit together like two improbable puzzle pieces that should never have been separated.

When he was with them, Lan Xichen always felt a little lost, a little alone – like there was someone else that should have been there, too, someone who fit with him just right the way they fit together.

Perhaps, he thought, reflecting on what he had heard, there really should have been.

“About what?” Nie Huaisang inquired politely.

“The Unclean Realm,” Lan Xichen said, even though that was obvious there’d be rumors about that – there’d been people trying to sneak into there ever since it had been locked down, even though the Nie sect had announced that they’d imposed orders permitting any trespassers to be killed on sight, no excuses allowed. It hadn’t made that much of a difference; everyone wanted to know what they were hiding. “The – inheritance thereof.”

“Oh?” Nie Huaisang fanned himself lightly. “How interesting. What do the rumors say?”

“That you have an older brother,” Lan Xichen said, and noted with interest that neither Nie Huaisang nor Lan Wangji seemed surprised. “That he’s the real heir of Qinghe Nie. And that he’s…”

“That he’s what?”

“Subject to a curse,” Lan Xichen said, feeling bashful for even saying such a thing. It sounded like a children’s story told in the nighttime, not like anything a cultivator ought to be speaking of.

Except Nie Huaisang smiled a little, his eyes curving into crescents in a grim sort of humor, and he said, “Well, they’re not wrong.”

“I trust that this is an illustration of the reason we have rules against spreading rumors,” Lan Qiren said mildly, and noted that Nie Huaisang looked thoroughly abashed for once.

It didn’t happen very often: Nie Huaisang was in many ways utterly shameless, as shameless as his father had always been. As shameless as his mother, who Lan Qiren had met only twice, had been when in search of a snack, and given that woman’s force of personality (and, for that matter, appetite), that was saying something.

“I wasn’t expecting them to start talking about breaking the curse,” Nie Huaisang said bitterly. “I didn’t mean a curse like – like a kid’s story, or something! I just meant, you know…”

The qi deviations, he did not say.

“It could be seen as a curse, if you look at it in the right light,” Lao Nie agreed. He didn’t seem especially perturbed by the fact that his son’s conversation with Lan Xichen had been overheard and then spread out everywhere, nor that the secret of his eldest son’s improbable survival was being gossiped about all over the cultivation world. “It’s quite a reasonable way to describe it, really.”

Lan Qiren shot his old friend a frown. “I trust you’ve heard the rest of it, too?” he asked tartly. “They’re saying that you’d let the entirety of the Qinghe Nie go to whoever succeeded in breaking the ‘curse’.”

“Who says I won’t?” Lao Nie asked, and Lan Qiren turned to him fully to stare: he couldn’t be serious.

Lao Nie caught his glance and shook his head, and in the light he didn’t look grim and angry, the way he always was these days; he looked tired, and sad, and broken. “Oh, I’m quite serious, my friend,” he said. “If someone could bring me back my son, I would give them my head off my shoulders in a heartbeat.”

He was speaking hypothetically, Lan Qiren knew, and yet – with a sinking sensation in his heart – he knew, too, that they weren’t sitting somewhere as secret as he would have liked for a conversation like this. He knew that others had probably heard what Lao Nie had said, and instead of understanding that he was expressing regret for what had happened to his son, they would think…

Well.

They’d think a lot of things.

“Think of your health, instead of your death,” Lan Qiren finally said, shaking his head. He’d been helping Lao Nie for years now, fighting a rearguard action against Lao Nie’s own inevitable qi deviation, trying to win enough time for Nie Huaisang to grow up old enough to take over properly, but it was getting harder each visit, the treatment less effective, the healing slower.

It would not be too long now.

“They’re the same thing,” Lao Nie said, shaking his head. “I should have lost my life years ago, instead of losing him his…it’s been so long, Qiren. Every day I wake up is a day I live for him, not for me – living the way he would want me to, doing what he’d approve of. It’s the least I could do. If someone could bring him back to me…someone, anyone, anyone at all…”

His gaze was distant, and sad. Terribly sad.

“What Qinghe Nie? What Unclean Realm? What inheritance?” he finally said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give for that. Nothing at all.”

Wen Ruohan was the first.

For some reason, Lao Nie hadn’t been expecting that, though perhaps he should have – the reason he’d first started liking Wen Ruohan so much all those years ago was purely because of how shameless the man was, arrogant and careless of the world in the way only the truly dangerous could be. He’d liked that aspect of his back then, and when he wasn’t lying to himself, he knew he liked it still.

But this?

This was too far.

“How dare you?” he roared, and there was a red haze over his vision of the sort that he knew boded extremely ill for his long-term health. “My Unclean Realm is closed – do you think that you would be welcome? You, of all people?”

Wen Ruohan had forced his way right up to their gate, bringing with him a small retinue rather than the invasion force Lao Nie’s elders were always a little concerned about. As a result, he was now surrounded, surrounded and outnumbered, but he did not seem afraid.

Detestable man.

Lao Nie hated him now. He hated him as much as he’d once liked him.

He hated that he couldn’t hate him more.

“I’m here about the curse,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lao Nie stared at him, utterly speechless. “You did say ‘anyone at all’.”

“You want Qinghe Nie?” Lao Nie asked blankly, though of course he would – Wen Ruohan’s ambitions to take over the entire cultivation world were hardly secret. No, even if that was the first thing that came to his lips, Wen Ruohan’s blatant overreaching wasn’t actually what surprised him.

No, what surprised him was –

“You know it’s not a curse,” he said.

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said, and when he lifted his eyes to meet Lao Nie’s, Lao Nie was surprised to find them bloodshot. Not the familiar sort, the qi deviations of rage the way all Nie sect leaders went eventually, but rather a sort that was even more common than that.

Grief. Sorrow. Guilt.

Regret.

That last one was a word Lao Nie would previously have put money on Wen Ruohan not knowing.

“You said ‘anyone at all’,” Wen Ruohan said again, and it occurred to Lao Nie that that was the part that Wen Ruohan had quoted, the part he was stressing: not the inheritance, not There’s nothing I wouldn’t give, but just that. Anyone at all, Lao Nie had said, and he’d meant it, too. Anyone at all meant anyone.

Even Wen Ruohan.

“Since when do you care?” Lao Nie asked. “You were the one who did it.”

“I did it,” Wen Ruohan admitted. “I was angry at you. I’ve been angry at you for years. I thought I’d cleansed myself of all feeling before you dug the heart out of me, and yet you treated me lightly, giving me only as much of yourself as you wished. I thought that if I could only get rid of you, I could seal my heart up again and be none the worse for it.”

“You would’ve gone mad,” Lao Nie said, feeling irritable. “I told you time and time again, the path of clarity is a dead end. No man can live without feeling emotions. Sorrow may try to trick you into thinking it’s preferable, but in the end...”

Wen Ruohan smiled, humorless. “Sorrow can be very convincing. But that’s not what you asked – you wanted to know why I was here.”

Lao Nie crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, then?”

“You’re still here,” Wen Ruohan said. “My heart is not dead. And I – I nearly murdered a child.”

That brother of his, Lao Nie thought, and he understood.

But what good would his understanding do?

“I have to try to fix it,” Wen Ruohan said. No, not said – he was nearly begging. “Lao Nie, you said anyone. I did it, I acknowledge it. I was wrong. I regret. Let me have a chance to try to fix it.”

“There’s no fixing it,” Lao Nie said, and turned away. “You ran a fool’s errand, Hanhan. He’s not even here.”

#mdzs #sect leader nie #nie huaisang #lan wangji #lan xichen #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #cursebreaker

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arrowflier · 3 years ago

Note

I absolutely loved your last ficlet, the one inspired by Take Me to Church (well, I love EVERYTHING you write), so I'm here with a thought that maybe you can turn into something:

What if, for some reason, Mickey has to speak in Ukrainian (your pick why, maybe directions to tourists or a phone call with a distant relative) and Ian witnesses it and just goes: 😳🤯🤤🥵😍, followed by "can you do that again when we're in bed"?

Thank you anon! Disclaimer that I do not know Ukrainian, so if google led me astray I apologize.

That Foreign Tongue

They were out in the rig, on their way to a pickup, when Mickey got a call.

He fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone, frowned at it in consternation as it blared.

“Who the fuck?” he mumbled to himself, then swiped to decline.

Ian looked over as he pulled to the curb outside their destination, curious.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know,” was all he got in answer. “Not a fuckin’ Chicago number, that’s for sure. Not New York, either,” he added before Ian can check. Mandy wasn’t great at staying in contact, but they knew to answer if it looked like it could be her.

Ian shrugged, and reached back to grab the cash bag from behind Mickey’s seat.

“Sure it wasn’t Mexico or something?” he prodded with a forced casualness, and Mickey rolled his eyes as he shoved open the door to get out.

He met Ian around the front of the ambulance, and promptly poked him in the chest, hard.

“What was that for?” Ian asked, wounded, and Mickey clicked his tongue.

“For still fuckin’ fishin’ about that,” he told his husband. “It’s been two fucking years, let it go already.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ian huffed. “Sorry for wanting to know more about what you did down there that has people calling in the middle of the—”

“That was one time!” Mickey exclaimed, arms going wide. “One fucking time, and I told you what it was about! Roberto needed me to check on his damn kid, it had nothing to do with—”

“Well how was I supposed to know that,” Ian interrupted loudly, “when you were speaking a whole different language?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Mickey trailed off as he stormed away from Ian down the sidewalk.

He wasn’t really mad. They did this song and dance around once a month, still, ever since one of his old contacts had found him and called him up. It stuck in Ian’s craw that Mickey had had people down there, without him, even though, as he explained to him once, he was glad about it at the same time. They both knew it didn’t really matter—sometimes it just needed to come out.

Sure enough, Ian caught up with him after only a few strides, falling in beside him naturally. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but otherwise there was no indication of their brief argument.

Mickey gave him two minutes before he tried to smooth it over.

Ian didn’t last one.

“You know,” his husband started, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “I’m just making sure none of those foreigners come up here and take what’s mine.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah?” he prompted. “Think they’re coming for our jobs and our husbands, now?”

Ian’s lips lifted in a grin, their banter back on track the way they liked it.

“I mean,” he said, “I can’t really blame them.” He grabbed Mickey by the arm and brought them both to a stop right outside their drop, tugging him close enough for their boots to kick together on the pavement.

“A hot, red-blooded American man like yourself,” Ian murmured, getting his arms around Mickey’s waist. “You’re quite the catch, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed, leaning up to bring their faces closer. “That right, Mr. Milkovich?”

He was just about to follow it up with a good old-fashioned make-up kiss, when his phone blared again from his pocket.

“Damn it,” he hissed as he thumped his heels back down and dug it out again. This time, he answered it immediately.

“Whoever the fuck you are,” he shouted into it, “you’re interruptin’ something here.”

An unfamiliar voice came down the line, barely audible to Ian where he still stood close but with a clearly chastising tone, and the fight went out of Mickey in an instant.

“Prīvіt,” Mickey muttered, looking almost bashful, and Ian did a double-take. That wasn’t English, or Spanish…he had to try and listen in on a third language, now? When did Mickey even find the time to learn this shit?

Ian watched silently as Mickey listened to whoever was on the line. His husband had folded into himself, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and his elbow with the other, casting a quick glance up at Ian before turning his attention away again.

“Shcho novogo?” he asked into the phone, and then a brilliant smile crossed his face a moment later. “Dobre, dobre,” he said, then “vitayu”.

It sounded like the caller asked him a question, next, but Ian couldn’t hear what Mickey answered, his husband lowering his voice and turning his back. Ian tried not to let himself feel hurt at the sudden shut-out.

A moment later, the call was over with a quiet “do pobachenn'a”, and Mickey faced him again.

Ian wanted to ask, but he waited instead, hoping Mickey would explain. Thankfully, he did.

“So, uh,” he started off nervously. “That was my…like, my great-aunt or something?”

Ian could feel his eyebrows rising. “You have family you still talk to?” he asked, and Mickey shook his head immediately.

“Nah, not really,” he admitted. “But this one, she’s back in Ukraine still, guess she calls around sometimes to check on me and Mandy.” He looked down at the dark screen of his phone, lips twisted. “Been a couple years,” he added. “Didn’t think she had the new number, but uh. Guess one of my cousins just had a kid or somethin', so she wanted to catch up.”

Family was a touchy subject, Ian knew. So he went for the next obvious question instead.

“Ukraine? That mean you speak Ukrainian?”

Mickey just looked at him. “No, Ian,” he offered dryly, “I just thought I’d make some weird sounds and see if she could read my mind from across the fuckin’ ocean.” Ian didn’t respond, so he tacked on, “Yes, I speak Ukrainian. Sort of.” He rubbed his nose, looked away and back. “That gonna be a problem for you?”

It was a fair enough question. But this wasn’t like the Spanish, which was never really the problem anyway. It wasn’t a reminder of time they spent apart, or things he didn’t now. It was just Mickey. And Mickey's voice, and the way it rolled over those unfamiliar phrases so cleanly, so...attractively.

“Not at all,” Ian clarified quickly. Too quickly, maybe, because Mickey’s cautious look gave way to a slow smile.

“Oh, really?” Mickey said, apparently delighted. He grinned even wider when Ian felt his face flush. So his husband sounded hot in other languages, fucking sue him.

“Better watch out, man," Mickey warned. "I hear foreigners like me are out huntin’ down men like you nowadays.”

Ian cleared his throat, and closed the distance between them again. “And that’s a problem how?” he asked.

“Didn’t say it was, miy cholovik,” Mickey murmured lowly, raising a hand to grip at Ian’s hair once he was close enough. Ian’s breath caught at the soft look on his eyes that accompanied the foreign words.

“What does that mean?”

Mickey pressed their lips together once, twice, before pulling back just enough to answer.

“Nothing bad, moye sontse,” he breathed, and Ian shuddered.

“We have a job to do,” he reminded Mickey weakly, like he hadn’t been the one to start this. “You keep saying that weird shit, we’re gonna have to cancel all our pickups today.”

“You better make some calls then, miy kokhanets,” Mickey chuckled against his lips. “But first…”

He pushed Ian back into a convenient alley right next to their original destination, shoving until they hit the rough brick wall. Ian didn’t protest as Mickey started to tug at his camo jacket, getting the zipper down far enough to mouth at Ian’s neck.

“Ya tebe kokhayu, Ian” Mickey muttered against his skin, pressing tighter as Ian clutched at his back. “Let me show you how much.”

Hours later, at home, Ian asked Mickey what else his aunt had said.

"Oh, not much," Mickey answered, snuggling closer. "Wanted to see if we could catch a flight sometime, go visit the old country, that kind of thing."

"Is that something you'd want to do?" he prodded, and Mickey shrugged, shoulders moving against Ian's chest.

"I guess," he said, unconvincingly disinterested. "I'd have to teach you the language, though, none of my mom's folks speak English."

Ian's brain ground to a halt. If the day had been any indication, he wasn't sure he could survive language lessons with his husband.

But never let it be said that Ian Gallagher backed down from a challenge.

"Sure," he agreed, and he was sure of one thing when he felt Mickey smile against his neck--it was going to be the best worst decision of his life.

According to my admittedly poor research, Mickey basically says hi, what's up, good, congrats, goodbye, then calls Ian my husband, my sun, my lover and says I love you. It's most likely all horribly butchered because I only speak English and a tiny bit of German, if you know Ukrainian I would happily take correction.

#daily speedwrite #if you're ukrainian sorry for butchering your language #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #foreign languages #fanfic

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justwonder113 · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight adventures

Matsukawa Issei x f.reader

WARNING: Angst to fluff, Slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, kinda long and decent amount of cursing cuz I have no shame. Both reader and Matsun are kind of dumb.

word count 6.5k

You loved him, you really did, even though he sometimes drove you out of your mind and made you want to bash his head against the wall. And he knew that. He knew what kind of effect he had on you and he was amused by it. He knew just to push the right buttons, he knew how to rile you up.

You were like an open book to him, so of course he knew you had a crush on him from the start, and you knew that he was aware of your feelings. At first, you were reluctant and refused to admit having the slightest feelings for him, but after some time you accepted the fact and realized that at some point you made your feelings seem obvious. Well, he was your first actual crush, and you were inexperienced.

Your friends would also tease you a lot and at some point, they locked you two together so you could finally confess. It was after their match against shiratorizawa in the third year. That was the day you had your first kiss with him, honestly, you didn't know what happened that night, one moment you were arguing with him because he wanted to leave the team, you were basically yelling how amazing player and teammate he was and the next second you were kissing each other. You expected that after he would confess to you, but he never did. He acted with you like the kiss never happened and that really broke you.

Maybe that is why after all these years you decided to move away, both literally and emotionally. You spent all your high school years waiting for him, waiting for him to make a move, but before you knew it you graduated. You finished school not even holding hands with another boy because you thought he felt the same, you thought that maybe you could be together? But now you realized that it was all load of bullshit. Why did you have to go so far for a person who didn't care about you that much? Why did you have to hold back when he never said no to all the attention he got from girls? You knew that they meant nothing to him and that he only saw them as one-time flings but it still really hurt you. Did you even mean something to him?

You felt mad at yourself, you wasted all these years swooning over someone who didn't return your feelings. But the thing that angered you the most was that you still weren't over him. Your heart would still flutter like crazy whenever you saw him and as much as you hated it he looked better and better every time. You also hated the fact that you couldn't blame him for all this pain, you couldn't tell that you were heartbroken because he didn't love you, that wasn't much of a reason. You were the silly one here. Why were you even surprised? He knew you for years as friends. He probably only saw you as a friend and considered the kiss as a mistake.

To be honest, he never did anything wrong, he always treated you warmly, and with respect, he liked to piss you off but he never really crossed the line, you couldn't blame him for not loving you. You guys kissed like one time, he probably regretted it and didn't want to hurt your feelings that's why he never brought it up after that. He gave you space. He didn't tell you in your face that he didn't return your feelings, he never broke your heart, you were just the silly one, clinging tightly to that miserable string of hope. You were the weak one for falling for him. It would have been better if he screwed up, if he told you that he could never look at you romantically, maybe it would make you feel a little better, your heart would break but you would get over it? But no destiny said that he had to be perfect.

When you moved away to University you promised yourself that you would start everything from the fresh page, you would work on yourself and no longer be that helpless girl who couldn't even get over her crush. You spent months working on your self-confidence and other issues, you spent countless time getting yourself into shape. Let's say you worked on yourself pretty hard. And it paid off, you had finished university and were about to start your dream job, you had gotten an offer many would dream of, you did everything you wanted, you even got in a few relationships, you should have been satisfied right? Then why didn't feel so? Why was there a feeling of emptiness inside your soul and why was no one able to fill it? It made you furious, after all these years, how could you not move on? Why did you Think about Matsukawa when you kissed other men? Why did you keep comparing everyone to him? What did he even do to deserve a permanent place in your heart? Your heart still kept beating like crazy and it's been what? years? you were in your twenties already, you needed to move on!

You were back in the city to celebrate your friends' victory over his rivals. Oikawa being the flashy person he is decided to throw the biggest party possible and now here you were. You knew you would meet him here, he was his friend as much as you after all, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much. As you said time really had done its job on him, he looked more mature now, he was slightly taller and definitely more muscular, he decided to grow his hair too, you always knew that he would look amazing with slightly longer hair, he had also gotten a few tattoos that were seen through his rolled-up black shirt. Man, did it suit him, the shirt was a bit tight fit and it really complimented his muscular form. The tattoos looked amazing on him and were these rings he was wearing? And piercings! And he had his nails painted black, Really life? He looked like your dream man, thank you very much for nothing!

You knew you would run into him today and you tried to look your best, you knew it was silly but you felt like showing off, but after seeing him you felt kind of self-conscious. You wondered if your dress was a good choice, you chose it as it hugged your curves perfectly and really complimented them but now you were wondering if it was too much. Was your hair alright? You hoped it didn't get frizzy. Oh god, why was everyone staring at you? Your lipstick didn't smudge, right? Even though you were having a war inside your head it simply washed away in an instant as you saw the face of your best friend who was grinning like crazy. You quickly headed to her and engulfed them in a tight hug. God, you missed themso much! You felt lucky just by having them in your life, and they really helped you get through with your issues,they were with you every step of the way and you couldn't be more thankful. If it wasn't for them and your friends you doubted you would be standing here right now. Even though you still felt self-conscious sometimes like now overall you were a pretty confident person who radiated power. Even when you felt weak you managed to look powerful. Maybe this was your resting bitch face? You didn't know. You felt thankful that he didn't notice you he was too busy talking with some woman, typical.

"I missed you so much! Can't believe I'm seeing you after all this time. I really missed you all. And meeting on an occasion like this we just have to celebrate our reunion, I knew Oikawa would beat their asses someday," you grinned proudly. "Okay, I'm getting carried away, I really missed you tho. We have to catch on, let's ditch your them later and have some fun!" You ranted as you occasionally squeezed your best friend who kept chuckling.

"Now now Y/N-chan, you just came back don't go stealing my friends from me!" Oikawa came out of nowhere and snatched your best friend away from you, you pouted but chuckled in the end.

"Can't make promises Flattykawa. And in my defense, I knew them longer." You teased and made a face at him, Oikawa fake gasped and clutched his heart a smile never leaving his face. You missed this idiot and his dramatic shenanigans so bad.

"Again with a nickname! Y/F/N-chan she's being mean!" Your friend only chuckled at Oikawa's childlike behavior and patted his hand.

"She has a point tho." Your friend teased along.

"Betrayed by you too! What else should I expect today?" He whined, you only chuckled and opened your arms.

"I really missed you, you dork! I'm really proud of you," you said sweetly, Oikawa immediately hugged you, you smiled at the familiar warmth, Oikawa has been like an annoying brother to you, you weren't used to not hearing his constant whining and antics even after all these years living apart from them.

"I really missed you too! Nothing's the same without you!" You smiled at Oikawa's warm comment. You were glad they missed you the same way you missed them. You really tried to visit as frequently as you could but it was hard when all of you were covered in work. Out of all third years, Hanamaki and Matsukawa stayed in Japan, you and others left the country for Universities. You felt really emotional, it had been such a long time without them...

"Look at her, hugging Oikawa and Y/f/n-chan first, don't mind me I'm just gonna stand here until you decide to acknowledge me. I thought we had something special Y/n, you're breaking my heart here." You heard a deep voice behind you, you smiled and turned back smirking.

"I would say she has her priorities set right? I mean it's me you are talking about,"Oikawa boasted, Your friend giggled.

"Missed you too Hiro," you grinned as you playfully hit his shoulder then hugged him. It was good to be home.

"Where's my grizzly bear?" You asked as you searched the crowd for the angry spiky head.

"He's at the bar probably, Oikawa managed to talk his ears out already, he left a minute ago saying "I'm not drunk enough for this shit!" I'm sure he will be happy to see you." Makki smiled and wrapped his hand around your shoulder you smiled and leaned in on his touch. You had missed this so much!

You spent most of the evening chatting with people and having a nice time. Oikawa for sure knew how to throw a party, you even danced with some charming men. You felt uneasy tho, you and Matsukawa made eye contact a few times but none of you even moved to say something, you just smiled at each other awkwardly. Over the night you noticed how many girls approached him, well it wasn't surprising, he was a good looking young man, but you couldn't help but feel a tinge of annoyance on the inside. In the end, you tried your best to be your charming self. You talked to many different men and even danced with more of them, moving your hips passionately along the music. But you felt bored in the end. None of them were interesting, they didn't have a fire you wanted. How long were you going to be like this? Wasn't there someone who could I don't know sweep you off your feet?

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, the alcohol was starting to kick in and you swayed your hips with a bit more passion, your best friend was next to you, Oikawa had left you two alone to have your time.

"You haven't talked to him right?" As always, Your friend guessed what was bothering you in a second.

"No, and I'm not planning on doing so. If he didn't think I were at least a little bit important than the girls he was talking to then I'm not going to interfere. I have self-respect. He didn't even bother to say hi." You rolled your eyes and chugged another shot, the alcohol mildly burned your throat but you were used to the feeling. You just felt like dancing and maybe even washing your worries away. You wanted to have fun, and you had a reason too, your friend won a gold medal and defeated his rivals! You decided to go and do another shot, getting near the bar, you noticed a familiar spiky head, you smiled and got closer finally sitting next to the buff man.

"Is this seat taken handsome?" You asked seductively, Iwaizumi's shoulders tensed for a second but he relaxed as soon as he saw your grinning face.

"Y/N!" He greeted you with a smile and got up, you were quick to wrap your hand around him.

"Good to see you, daddy." You grinned teasingly, Iwaizumi flushed immediately. You had a habit of teasing him, you often called him daddy because of his aggressive yes, but caring demeanor, and you really enjoyed it when he got flustered. Truth be told you were probably the only person who got away with teasing him without getting punched or kicked.

"God, when will you stop with the dumb nickname? People are going to get a very wrong idea, it's embarrassing," he grumbled and pointed to the bartender by his eyes, who was looking at you from time to time sneakily, he heard you and was shocked, you smirked and gave him a wink, making the boy blush harder. You smiled, as you eyed the boy he was definitely cute.

"I will stop when you won't have an adorable reaction like this," you teased, Iwaizumi only scoffed, but he didn't look mad.

"It's awfully early for you to start drinking, did Oikawa really talk your ears out?" You chuckled, Iwaizumi scoffed again but he looked amused.

"Unfortunately for me yes, I swear to God he never stops talking." You chuckled, it was such an Oikawa thing to do.

"Yeah, I'm glad Oikawa won, I'm sorry for your team but he did work really hard for it and really deserved it." You smiled fondly after noticing Oikawa dancing with your best friend over some cheezy song which probably he had chosen.

"Yeah, I'm glad too. You should have seen him tho, the all smug Oikawa crying nonstop like a baby after he realized he had won, well of course after they left the court, he was like Iwa-chan I did it!" Iwaizumi mimicked Oikawa's crying voice, you giggled. It sounded like Oikawa, "Don't laugh, who do you think had to stop him from crying? "Iwaizumi shuddered as you had a hard time holding your laughter. You had such a good time, you didn't even notice a pair of dark brown eyes observing your giggling form.

"Now all I can see is Oikawa clinging to you like a koala and crying his eyes out." Iwaizumi only looked at you with an unamused face, making you raise your hands in defeat, the deadly aura didn't go unnoticed by you. Iwaizumi rarely lost his cool around you, but it didn't mean you were immune to his rage. "I'm only kidding, Iwa baby, please don't get mad at me." You lightly pouted as you made puppy dog eyes at him, he only sighed and took another sip from his drink, you smiled and ordered a drink, you visibly relaxed, you didn't feel on edge anymore.

You talked for a while, but unfortunately for you, Iwaizumi had to leave, apparently drunk Oikawa was somewhere causing some trouble. You found it suspicious that was too much even for Oikawa but you didn't question it. Iwaiizumi only grumbled in annoyance and left, being used to all this stuff. You, on the other hand, Made small talk with the cute bartender, he was really good looking and surprisingly very charming and smooth. You were quite drunk already and you were feeling needy, so now here you were making out with him in some empty hallway. He was a good kisser, but you still didn't feel any spark. You wanted to feel the same tingling sensation as the one you felt when you had your first kiss with Issei. The situation was not at all romantic as you said, Oikawa and others locked you in the lockers, to make up after you had a little fight. You bickered at each other for a while, well it was you who was really arguing, you were really mad at him because he was bringing himself down and planned on leaving the team, and you were trying to get to his scull how amazing he actually was and soon your lips were against each other and it felt like the most magical feeling in the whole world. You had never felt anything like that when you kissed others and today was no exception, unfortunately for you. You tried to take the lead in the kiss maybe to make it feel more enjoyable for you but before you could even try, a hand made the man separate from you. You opened your eyes to see Issei, who didn't have a very pleased expression.

"I have business with Y/N, so I don't know, get lost?" Issei said without any emotion. You looked at him dumbfounded. He didn't even bother saying hi earlier, what business would he have with you? The boy, Souma was it? Looked at you two before speaking.

"Dude what the hell we were busy!" He groaned as he glared at Issei, who didn't seem really fazed.

"Do I really look like I care?" Matsukawa asked plainly, You took the chance to straighten up.

"Listen here you little..." Souma stopped before he would go on, as he felt chills run down his spine under Matsukawa's cold glare. You sighed and straightened up.

"I guess it's pretty important, I will contact you later ok?" You asked sweetly, but you both knew you weren't going to contact him. You didn't even have his number and you hadn't given him yours. Souma grumbled and left leaving you with Issei.

As soon as he left you were quick to smack Issei's arm. "Dude, what the fuck?" He only looked at you, grabbed your arm, and led you through the hallway. "What's with the cockblocking? He didn't seem too bad."

"I didn't like him." He said like it was the most obvious thing. It made you feel mad.

"Oh sorry, next time I will choose someone you might like, for future references what type of boys are you into?" You snarled lightly. You wanted to break free from his grasp but it was too strong. Soon your back made contact with the cold wall, and you were caged between Issei's strong arms. You tried to protest but before you could even say a word his lips were on you. You didn't know how to act, your whole body went stiff but after a second you felt your body relaxing.

"God, you're beautiful." He said as he kissed you again, his big hands snaking around your waist. You were speechless, you didn't really realize what was going on. But your body felt like it was on fire. His lips kept brushing against yours just perfectly, your skin was burning hot under his touch. Your heart was beating like crazy, you only managed to whimper against him and he took this as a chance to deepen the kiss. You tried to keep up but it was physically impossible. His kiss was deep and passionate, kind of possessive too. You could feel all his lust through it. You moaned lightly, unable to control yourself. You put your hands on his chest, you could even feel his strong yet fast heartbeat, you pushed lightly, Issei took the hint and leaned back. He stared at you, admiring your beautiful form, you looked so pretty all flustered and breathless, he had wanted to do this for such a long time, for the whole night you had basically been teasing him and his patience was running thin.

"What came over you. I..." You didn't know what to say, you were so confused.

"Do you remember our random sneak outs in highschool?" How could you forget, you just lived for the tiny adventures you, Makki and he used to have at three am. Sometimes when Hiro didn't feel like coming, you would go with him instead. Eating ice cream or random junk food at three am on your special spot, you lived for it. Sometimes you didn't even talk for a whole night but still felt so comfortable. Your chest tightened again at the memory. But why bring it up now? This didn't explain all the raging questions you had.

You nodded your head quietly, looking at him through glossy eyes. "I do. Why?" Your voice was so weak it made you cringe. You didn't know, what was this about? Why bring it up now.

"Would you go on an adventure with me? I know it's Oikawa's special day, but Y/N I... We both know that we need to talk." You looked up at him with wide eyes, you had never seen him like this, he looked so serious and desperate too? Despite feeling all furious and all you nodded and let him lead you through the crowd and to his car.

"I will text him, he might get worried. But what should I say? Where are we even going? We're in Tokyo, don't tell me we're going to Miyagi!" You asked as you sat down in his car, you were confused, all this stuff was confusing you.

"No, I don't plan to take you to Miyagi, I was thinking of ordering a shit ton of junk food via drive-in and then taking you to the place I found earlier. Don't worry I'm sure you will like it." Issei assured you as he got in his car, started the engine, and started driving.

"Are you really trying to get on my good side via food? I'm really mad it's not going to be that easy." You furrowed your eyebrows, Issei huffed a laugh.

"Maybe I am? We both know that you will sell your soul to satan for a bag of doritos! If I keep your mouth busy while I tell you something at least I won't have to worry about you biting my head off," Issei pointed out like it was the most obvious argument while smirking proudly, you scoffed.

"I will hit you so hard after you stop the car, I'm not doing it now because I value my life. And besides, it's not about whether or not I will like the place. It can be next to a strip bar or some abandoned place, what's important is that you will say and you know that." You said as a matter of fact and turned away from him, looking through the window.

"I know." He sighed after a second, the atmosphere was heavy, opposite of what you were used to. You started liking Mattsun because things were easy with him and that it was full adventures, but now... You had to calculate everything you said, how you moved, how you looked at him, and stuff. When did it become so painful to be in the same space as him? And the stuff he wanted to tell you terrified you. What if he admitted that he never saw you seriously? That he only felt desire for you at some doing and nothing else. You didn't even know what made him act up today, did he have at least the slightest feelings for you or did he just found desirable in that tight dress? Maybe he just didn't like the face another man tried to take you away. Either way, anxiety was eating you from the inside. Your heart kept beating rapidly and your fingers actually hurt from playing too hard with them.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice how he ordered and got the food. You only came back to reality only when he opened your door gently took your hand in his big one. "We're here." He helped you get out of it. The cold air immediately hit you, making you shiver slightly. "Here take this." He said as he put his jacket on your shoulders, it was so big you were basically swimming in it but on the contrary, it was really warm and soft and it smelled like him! Just perfect, you immediately snuggled in. Mattsun then took the food package from the backseat. He quickly locked the car and led you through again. You were now in front of a big clearly abandoned building, you hesitated for a second and tightened your grip around his hand, Issei looked at you, carefully examining your face."Are you feeling scared? I promise it's a safe place, I have been here. You still like exploring weird buildings like this right?" He teased lightly, squeezing back your hand. You only pouted.

"I do like exploring buildings like this, but when I said abandoned building I was joking you know that right? I like these kinds of places but not in dresses like this and especially not in high heels. I like being prepared to run from my life if there's a huge creep or some sort of monster, I don't know! And I haven't done something like that for such a long time, and we're not in Miyagi too, everything's new here!" You said as a matter of fact while playing with your hair, Issei only chuckled. You felt nervous. Before you could even comprehend what was happening Issei had already picked you over his shoulder. You felt like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh my god, Matsun what are you doing? Put me down!" You tried squirming away at the same time you clutched his shirt too afraid to fall. He started laughing, you felt vibrations through his back, you couldn't help but smile, you liked when he laughed.

"No way, I like carrying you and I have the best view too so no way princess."You could tell he was grinning while looking at your ass and it made you mumble in annoyance. You gasped when he spanked your bottom lightly, you smacked his back in response. "Do you like the view?"

"Shut up!" You whined, which made him chuckle harder. "Put me down, my dress is short!" You started wiggling again, but he had a death grip on you. You could feel the blood rushing to your face and at this point, you were not sure if it was from embarrassment, just having your head low and blood rushing to your head or just anger.

After a minute of him walking and you admiring his ass, he finally put you down. You looked around, the building was empty, there was no furniture and some of the walls were covered in graffiti. Other than that you enjoyed the place, it had a certain vibe to it. You wandered for a second, exploring the room. When you turned around you didn't see him, you walked around and eventually came out on the huge veranda. The sight made you gasp, Issei had laid the blankets on the floor and taken out the food, it looked so cozy! There were some pillows too. It was just like a little picnic, the dim streetlights also shone nicely with some fairy lights there and there and the sight in front of you of the night city was magnificent. Everything looked so simple yet so perfect.

"Okay, stop or I might have to actually marry you." You pointed at everything dramatically, you couldn't contain your smile. Everything looked like the pics you have seen on social media or in the movies. Issei smiled at you softly, you looked so cute all excited like that. His jacket really suited you too, you looked so perfect.

"I knew you would like this. I'm glad you actually agreed to come." He smiled and patted space next to him, you sighed and sat carefully, holding down your dress, it was short at it was you didn't want it to slide up too much.

"You knew I wouldn't refuse such tempting request, didn't you? I always liked our little adventures," you smiled fondly, recalling sweet high school memories.

You spent few minutes in silence watching the city, eating there and there, but it wasn't uncomfortable like before, your anxiety had calmed down a little too. You just sat there and enjoyed the moment. You didn't even notice when he took your hand but you didn't bother to take it back. You wished you could stay like this forever but you also knew it was wrong. You had to ask the question, even if hearing it could destroy you. You both knew that.

"Matsu, why did you kiss me earlier? I'm trying to understand what's going on between us but now I'm especially confused. Why did you do it? I thought you didn't like me," You were talking quietly, but in reality, it was really hard for you to contain your sea of emotions. Issei tightened his grip on your delicate fingers, neither of you bothered to look at each other in the eyes. He took a deep breath and started talking quietly.

"I don't know myself. I thought I had let go of you, I thought I was over you, but when I saw you again all feelings came crashing down on me again. You looked so breathtaking, I fell in love with you all over again. So pretty and all dolled up and this dress. God this dress, hugs you so perfectly on all the places I want to touch, I actually feel jealous of it. I want to rip it off and have you all to myself and never let go. I don't want to let go now that I tasted your lips again." He spoke lowly, his voice was raspy and it sent chills down your spine. " You are the most beautiful person here you know that right? You are probably the most beautiful person in the whole city, I think even in whole Japan or better the world!" Matsun kept going on and on setting your heart ablaze. You were mad, but at the same time, you were so at ease and felt so at comfort. It was like your mind and heart were battling each other and you had no idea which would win.

"I'm still really mad at you." You grumbled against his chest, Issei hummed and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist.

"I know and you have every right to." Issei hummed and pecked your hair, he then grabbed your chin lightly and made you look at him. "I'm really sorry Y/N, all I have been doing is to cause you pain. It was never my intention. I love you, god, I love you so much! I know you will be better without me. You can find so many who are way better than I am and would treat you like you really deserve. And I thought I came around with the fact that I wouldn't be the one to have you in the end. I always knew that. That's why I never made any kind of move on you. When you entered the party you looked like a different person. You were the most beautiful person I have ever met, you looked so confident and comfortable in your own skin and most of all you looked so happy! I didn't want to come to you and ruin it. I felt so proud too, you achieved so many things! God, you don't know how proud I am to even know you!" Matsun kept going on and on, you haven't even heard him talk this much in a row, he was always a man of few words. He looked so desperate too, and the way his voice broke, killed you too. You had known him for years but you still never had seen him like this. Honestly, You had no idea what to do. You wanted to yell at him and comfort him at the same time. You tightened your grip around his hand, your knuckles were starting to whiten but you didn't care. You wanted for him to know you were listening, that you were there.

"Matsun, I..." You tried to start but he interrupted you.

"Please let me finish." The tone of his broken voice immediately made you shut up. "I know it was my own choice to let you go, and I really thought I was fine with that but when I saw you... When I saw you something like snapped in me. I tried to take my mind away, I kept talking to this women to keep my mind off of you, but how can I pay any attention to these peasants when a literal goddess has taken over my heart? And when I saw you kissing that asshole I almost went feral! I would have murdered him if I had a chance. He was touching the one I basically find sacred so disrespectfully, I almost lost my mind. Then I got you to myself I couldn't help but kiss you. Your lips always look so welcoming I couldn't help myself. And I want to do it again and again. I don't ever want to let go. I miss you like crazy! I don't know if I can be apart from you again. I... God, I sound so pathetic, I don't even understand what's happening with me. I covered this place with blankets and stuff you love because I hoped you would come to another adventure with me. Funny thing is that I wasn't even planning on asking, I don't know how we ended up here. I thought I would end up coming here all alone, wallowing myself in self-pity again. I know I don't deserve it, and I know that everything's my fault and my fault only and I would understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me, but could you give me another chance? I don't think I can last any more minute without you. I miss you so much it actually hurts."

Matsukawa looked at you with pleading eyes, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were getting in his lap and were kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He was startled for a second, he clearly didn't expect you to have a reaction like this but he wasn't against it at all. In fact, in a second, he was the one taking the lead and deepening the kiss. His hands digging in your hair while you slid yours through his hair. He would have continued doing so before you leaned back and broke the kiss. He looked at you half dazed. You were quick to bring him back to his senses when you harshly smacked his head.

"That hurts!" He complained, which made you more fueled up and now you punched his shoulder.

"That's the point of hitting! I want it to hurt you asshole!" You yelled. "You know you're a huge fucking idiot right? What's with this bullshit about not being worthy to be next to me? If I didn't think your ass was worthy I wouldn't have fallen in love with you! My taste in men may not be that great but I'm not stupid! I appreciate that you're thinking about my happiness or whatever, even though it's totally uncalled for, and thank me for not beating your ass further! But I get to decide what's good for me and what's not. To your surprise genius, that comes to dating too! I get to decide whom I want to date and fall in love with and in this case, it happens to be you, fuck it always has been you! I had some partners but I didn't love any of them, cause your caterpillar brow ass has managed and captured my heart, I always come to compare them to you, and guess what they're not you! God, you can be so stupid for someone who is supposed to be smart! I'm really disappointed Matsun and mad too! I want to beat your ass even further! God, how did you even manage to come up with this bullshit? I swear to god!" You kept grumbling while messing with Issei who looked like he was still in shock, his cheeks were dusted pink and you couldn't help but squeal on the inside from how cute you found it. You made Issei blush! That was an achievement for sure and such an adorable one too! But you couldn't back down now, you felt actually mad that he had such dumb thoughts like this, but on the other hand, you found it very endearing and cute. He was trying to protect you! And by the looks of it, he was hurting just as much as you. But the fact remained the same, he loved you. Your dream came true, he shared the same feelings! You felt so happy, you wanted to kiss his face till your lips fell off.

"You know you don't have to straight ass roast me right?" Issei tried to look offended but he was having a hard time hiding his grin, you smiled and pinched his cheek making him roll his eyes.

"Oh baby, I'm not even started. What did you think I was going to forget everything? And don't be mislead Makki can't even come close to me when it comes to teasing. You're in for a ride sweetheart, teasing is only just begging, maybe if you find a few ways to shut me up, and you know what I mean, I could keep quiet for a while, you could atone for your stupid ass mistakes with many kisses for starters. I don't know Matsu get creative. The point is you're stuck with me and you can't even run from me now you got it? No more bullshit like I don't deserve you and stuff like that," You said as slowly and as seductively as you could having your face close to his and occasionally brushing your lips against his. Still being in his lap gave you the perfect leverage and you just loved the way he was tightly holding your hips, to keep your bodies close. You felt complete after such a long time...

The hurt and all the emotions didn't wash away immediately obviously, you knew that your wounds would take time to heal, but now at least you knew Issei would be next to you through the journey and that was enough. You knew that now, that you had talked things through, maybe yelled from your side but still, you knew that you could overcome many things together. You just needed to voice your thoughts out.

"Wasn't even planning on it baby," he growled while he closed the distance between your lips again making you squeal a little. Yup, you just loved your little midnight adventures.

God, I can't believe I actually wrote over 6500+words. No wonder my eyes hurt like a bitch lol. Anyway, I really hope you will like it. If you have any kind of feedback please notify me. I'll gladly take some healthy criticism. I really want to improve my writing and I promise I will do my best. This is a firts work I have ever published on tumblr and I really hope you will like it^^

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst to fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #matsukawa #matsukawa x you #hq matsukawa #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #badass reader #hq x reader #hq #reader insert #angst to fluff #mutual pining #friends to lovers

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jikookiekosmos · 3 years ago

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Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

#bts #bts smut #bangtaninn #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung scenarios #detective!au

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning. I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one. I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise. I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links. You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle. It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party. There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies. Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory. Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2. This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet. So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works. Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered. Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise. If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day. And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options. The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

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